What Happens in California
by Driven2Insanity
Summary: Jesse St. James is finally at UCLA, ready to travel the road to Broadway. So much can happen in one year, though... and it isn't going to be at all what he expected. Will include the events of 'Never Have I Ever' and unfold thereafter.
1. Prologue

All-Encompassing Disclaimer: I do not own Glee (unfortunately). I do not own the songs that will be incorporated into this story (which is not a songfic). All characters and lyrics belong to their respective owners, and I'm not making any money from this (again, unfortunately). This disclaimer is in effect for the length of this fanfiction. Enjoy!

* * *

"You can't have it both ways."

He stared back into the hardened expression, trying not to flinch. Once upon a time he would never have allowed himself to be intimidated, especially when it came to his future. His name in lights, his voice on stage – oh yes, he still wanted those. But once upon a time seemed so long ago, now. Where had the time gone, before he had to face this? The obvious ultimatum, the challenge, hung in the air between them. He couldn't give it all up. The thought was unfathomable, even in his mind. It would be a betrayal to his very self if he walked away.

Those eyes, though. Those damnable eyes.

He tried to think straight, be rational about all of this. His head had always been the victor over his heart – no contest. Surely a compromise could be found within this mess. He could sense his logic losing, though. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what he really wanted.

"Why not?" The question burst from his lips unwillingly. It sounded childish, he knew, but he couldn't help himself.

Damnable eyes fixed him with an indignant stare. "Because the world doesn't work like that."

His world did. All his life, he could have whatever he wanted – sometimes he worked for it, sometimes he didn't – but in the end he would have it. No questions asked. If he wanted it both ways, he could have it both ways. Gazing back into that stare, though, he knew that it wouldn't happen this time. When he took the time to think about it, he found it funny how a single factor could send his life into a tailspin.

"This isn't fair." That too sounded childish, maybe even more so, and exceptionally unoriginal.

"No. It isn't."

He opened his mouth to retort, maybe even plead his case, but at that moment –

_Worst timing in the world, anyone?_

– an impeccably well-dressed man emerged from a side door, carrying a clipboard and an air of importance.

"Jesse St. James?"

Jesse looked over his shoulder and caught the man's eye, nodding. He turned back and those damnable eyes met his, again. He sighed.

"I'm up."

"I heard."

"We'll talk about this later, right?"

"That depends."

Jesse's breath caught in his throat. "Depends on what?"

"On whether I'm still here when you come back."

He closed his eyes briefly. "Please don't do this."

An all-too-familiar jerk of the head was his only reply. "You're up, Jesse."


	2. A Little School Called UCLA

"I've got a full ride to a little school called the University of California Los Angeles. Maybe you've heard of it. It's in Los Angeles."

* * *

"Jesse St. James, freshman … I'm a musical theatre major from Ohio … uh, nineteen – and my interesting fact is that I've won four consecutive national championships with my high school glee club."

Jesse gave a confident smile to the RA, who responded with an appreciative nod before turning her attention to the next student. Jesse's grin widened. Apparently, zip code had no bearing on his effect concerning the female population. He had stepped off the plane early that morning and headed straight for the university. It was exhilarating to finally be here, in this place he had dreamed about since forever. Jesse had no doubt that here, in California, he would learn the skills that would take him all the way to Broadway.

He settled back into his chair, crossing his arms, and let his mind drift to the other introductions. He recognized the current speaker as one of his new roommates.

"Cory Henson. I'm a freshman, obviously, eighteen, from right here in California. Upstate, though, near Fresno. My major is marine biology, and I absolutely _love_ to surf."

Cory Henson leaned back in his chair, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a relaxed grin on his face and looked out at the room with wide, friendly eyes – clear green in color. Blonde hair, almost white, sat in a messy mop on top of his head. Freckles speckled his face, though somewhat difficult to see against the sun-kissed tan that covered his skin.

Jesse studied the California boy; he radiated a carefree attitude that came effortlessly, not like Jesse's confident public front. Cory was easy to like, apparently, and Jesse was pleased by this. It didn't seem likely that conflict would rise between them.

He listened with a vague awareness to more introductions, taking the opportunity to take in the common room of Saxon Suites G second floor. An earthly smell hung in the air, no doubt due the trees outside the wide picture window and the wood walls of the building. The few pictures on the wall depicted the ocean and Jesse closed his eyes briefly, anticipating his first visit to the Pacific. His eyes snapped open when he heard another familiar name – roommate number two.

"I'm Jamal Williams." Jesse's gaze quickly swept to the young man. "Freshman, like everyone else, nineteen years. I come from New York, New York, and I am a philosophy major. My interesting fact … I can run a four-minute mile."

A few low whistles followed Jamal's statement, but Jesse could see it without difficulty. The tall African-American was all leg, with a very wiry build. His dark brown eyes were sharp, not entirely warm but friendly enough; even darker hair fell to Jamal's shoulders in dreadlocks. His mouth was set in a firm, straight line; the accent, while strong, did not inhibit his English. It didn't seem that Jamal was particularly strong in the trust department, but Jesse understood. He hailed from New York City, after all.

A bit more time passed before the third roommate gave his introduction. Jesse zeroed in on him with a touch of apprehension. While Cory, Jamal and he were athletic in some sense, this boy had never set foot in a gym in his life. In fact, he hardly looked old enough to have finished high school.

"Hi," said the boy awkwardly, giving a little wave. "I'm Matthew – Matt Adams. A freshman, but I'm only sixteen." He smiled nervously. "That's my interesting fact, I guess… I skipped some grades and got into UCLA early. I'm from uptown Los Angles, actually, and, uh, I'm majoring in Microbiology, Immunology and Molecular Genetics."

Matt had curly black hair cut close to his head and he peered through hazel eyes from behind wire-rimmed glasses. He was pale and lanky, with absolutely no muscle tone; in his chair he sat straight upright and held his hands in fists. Jesse mentally rolled his eyes – he hadn't travelled halfway across the country to hang out with high-schoolers. No fun in that.

"All right," the RA announced, standing. "Now that you all know each other, you're going to head off to your rooms and unpack. Get better acquainted with your roommates – you'll be living with each other for nine months." She offered a wry smile. "We'll do some exploring of campus tomorrow. Meet out front at 9:30 AM. See you all then."

Jesse stood and stretched leisurely, rolling his neck a few times. Those chairs were damn uncomfortable. He set off down the hall, following the signs to room 217. Between long strides, surfer Cory caught up with him.

"Hey. Jesse, right?" Cory asked in low tones. Jesse nodded an affirmation. "I think it'd be best if I take a room with Matt, if you don't mind sharing with Jamal. Matt and I are closer in age, and if I were him I'd be scared out of my mind if I had to occupy the same sleeping space as Jamal… he seems a little rough around the edges, you know?"

Jesse gave a little chuckle. "I understand, and I think I can handle myself with Jamal." He sighed softly. "I'm not thrilled about Matt, to tell you the truth."

"But I'm sure you'll be nice," Cory said in a tone that booked no argument. Jesse looked over at him, surprised at the intensity; he shrugged.

"Sure I will."

Jesse's brand-new silver key slid effortlessly into the lock and within seconds he stood in the middle of the room, closely followed by Cory, a silent Jamal and a very shy Matt. September sun filtered through the window over the sofa, which overlooked the entryway to Saxon G. Jesse frowned as he looked around – in addition to the three-person sofa, the living room contained two armchairs on either side of an end table, and a table (for eating? Studying?) with a single hardback chair. There appeared to be a closet next to the door, and another doorway across the room through which the two bathrooms and bedrooms resided.

_This is it?_ he thought to himself. _Might take some getting used to…_

The four boys stared at each other silently, Matt clenching his hands into fists again. Cory eventually broke the stillness with, what Jesse would soon learn, his trademark grin.

"Right," he said confidently. "So at least we all know everyone's name. I'm pretty sure the bedrooms are exact replicas of each other, and it shouldn't matter who takes which room. I plan on rooming with Matt, if that's okay?" Cory smiled at the younger boy, who shrugged and shifted his eyes to the floor. Cory glanced at the other two. "Any preference?"

Jamal shook his head mutely, and Jesse only shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me," he said, just to add another voice to the room.

"Fantastic," Cory grinned. "I'm right-handed… so how about Matt and I take the room to the left?"

"Sure thing," Jesse replied, somewhat amused by Cory's methods. "I actually don't have much to set up – all my things are being delivered later in the week, coming from Ohio and all." He nodded to the large backpack and suitcase beside the table. "That's it for now."

Cory nodded. "You wouldn't mind helping the rest of us out, then?"

"Of course not." Attempting to make an effort of friendliness, Jesse looked to Matt. "Need some boxes brought up or something?"

"Oh!" he replied, voice higher than normal, "Uh, yeah. That'd be great."

"Jesse, you can start organizing your stuff in the bedroom on the right and we'll all head down for our things now? When you're done you can help Matt out." Cory took charge effortlessly, and for some reason Jesse didn't protest, although he usually liked to be the one giving orders. For the moment, he was content to let someone else lead – but only for the moment.

As the other three left the dorm room, Jesse moved his few possessions into bedroom B, as it was denoted on the Saxon move-in sheet. He mentally growled at the small area, already too crowded with a bed, wardrobe, dresser, and desk apiece for the two occupants. Noting that the bed could be lofted, he set about a better organizational system for his side of the room.

By the time Jamal entered the room, his own backpack and a rolling suitcase in tow, Jesse had managed to loft the bed, putting his head a little above his wardrobe, and shove the dresser underneath. His desk sat next to the window at the foot of his bed, which hopefully wouldn't hinder his schoolwork later in the year (70 in February… oh yes). Jamal glanced around the room once before throwing his bag on the bed and began unpacking in silence – his standard mode, Jesse surmised.

Bed neatly made, clothes folded and hung up, and bathroom drawer assorted, Jesse left in search Matthew Adams. He was found in the stairwell, struggling to carry two boxes at once. Suppressing a sigh, Jesse reached up and snagged the top box, taking the weight and revealing Matt's surprised face.

"Thanks," Matt panted. "I knew I should have taken two trips."

"So why didn't you?" Jesse asked automatically, not really caring about the answer but trying to 'make nice.'

Matt laughed quietly. "I have better things to be doing than haul boxes up the stairs all day. Fewer trips means more time to settle in, right?"

"Sure," Jesse replied obediently. He wondered how long he'd be able to keep up feigned interest before he started ignoring the kid altogether. "What did you say you're studying? Some super-sciency something or other."

"Microbiology, Immunology and Molecular Genetics," Matt said; Jesse heard the definite hint of pride in his voice, the same breed as when he spoke about his talent in the performing arts.

"That's all one major?"

"Yup. You probably don't think it's very interesting, being a performer and such, but it's all so fascinating when the basics of science have been hurdled over."

"And you've done that?"

"Oh yeah," Matt said nonchalantly. "I took all the advanced science courses in my high school – I only have a few more credits to get before I have sophomore status, as a matter of fact, so by next semester…"

Jesse noticed how much outgoing Matt appeared when he talked about his academic success, and grudgingly admitted to himself that the kid impressed him on some level. He'd never been much for academics, although he never had trouble in school. That wasn't where his future lay, after all. Matt didn't brag when talking about his obviously high intellect; he simply stated it like a fact, without any sort of emotion in his voice aside from the slight pride.

Jesse shouldered the door open and waited until Matt had passed through before following; he dropped the box (gently) on the table and looked up, his eyes widening in shock.

"Who's TV?" he called, his mouth slightly slack. The 40" flatscreen dominated the far wall, its edges gleaming in the afternoon sun.

"Mine," Cory said from inside the bedroom. "Nice?"

"Very nice," Jesse nodded, moving closer to inspect the electronic setup.

"Nothing like a giant television screen to initiate male bonding," interjected a teasing voice from the open door. The RA of the second floor leaned in slightly, a smile on her lips.

Cory waved. "Hey, Sam. What's up?"

Samantha – preferred Sam – leaned against the doorjamb. "I just wanted to remind you four to spend some time getting to know each other a bit better. Go beyond the age, major, origin blah blah blah, okay?"

"No problem," assured Cory with a smile. "We'll sit down after dinner, how's that?"

"Perfect," Sam nodded, her blonde ponytail bouncing. "I'll see you all tomorrow morning." She paused mid-turn, blue eyes resting on Jesse for a split second before heading further down the hall. They heard her give out the same 'bonding' reminder to the next room over.

Jamal studied the living room from where he leaned against the wall, near the window. "She appeared interested in you," he told Jesse monotonously.

Jesse looked up from the assortment of DVDs beneath the flatscreen. "What?"

"It's true," Cory agreed, eyebrow quirking, "She was looking at you."

"Uh, yeah. It's a very common occurrence. I frequently attract the attention of the opposite sex. I'm used to being looked at."

Matt smirked at the floor in response to Jesse's audacity, but Cory rolled his eyes.

"Way to play modest, Jess."

Jamal, as usual, merely looked on in silence.

Jesse shrugged. "She was looking at me during the floor introductions too. That doesn't mean anything."

Cory chuckled derisively, "Whatever you say."

"I believe," Jamal said, clearing his throat, "that now would be an appropriate time to attend dinner."

"Agreed," Matt chimed in, albeit with slight hesitation.

"I have to admit," Cory smirked slightly, "I'm craving a mean pizza."

Jesse grabbed a jean jacket and grinned. "Café 1919 it is."

"I'm the youngest of three," Cory said from where he sprawled on the floor. "My brother's the oldest, and then my sister. I'm the only one that decided to stay in-state for college." He laughed softly. "That was quite a relief for my parents, as you can imagine."

Matt nodded frantically, throwing himself into the discussion. He seemed eager to learn more about the lives of 'actual' college-age students. "I got some scholarships, but my dad still had to pay a few thousand out of pocket. He wasn't thrilled with that. I told him that he shouldn't have pushed early admission if he didn't want to pay. He's got three girls to save for, now. My sisters."

"And your mother?" Jamal inquired, watching Matt closely.

He shook his head. "We don't talk about her," he smiled sadly.

An awkward silence followed as Cory, Jamal and Jesse exchanged uneasy glances; Cory finally diverted his gaze to Jesse. "How about you, Jess?"

"Just me in the child department," Jesse shrugged, straddling a backwards table chair. "UCLA gave me a full-ride scholarship into their theatre program. My reputation preceded me," he smirked, ignoring yet another eye roll from Cory.

"What about your parents?" Matt wondered, his hazel eyes wide.

"What about them?" Jesse shot back sharply. Noticing Matt's flinch and Cory's hard glare, he sighed and softened his tone. "They're proud of me, of course. Normal, happy parents who hated seeing their only child move halfway across the country." It was a (big) lie, but Jesse delivered his explanation with perfected acting flair; the sarcastic bitterness and resentment that should (did) accompany the words were missing, and a slight tilt of the mouth dispelled any thoughts that he was anything less than happy with his familial arrangements.

Jesse quickly shifted his attention to Jamal, missing Matt and Cory exchange a confused and partially skeptical glance. "Jamal. You're from New York?" The tall boy nodded. "What's that like?"

"Not pleasant," Jamal replied quietly. "I did not have opportunities like you did. I worked two part-time jobs in order to help support my home in addition to concentration on my education. My school was not privileged. Many students died while I attended, because they were members of gangs that often fought. My family is myself, my brother, and my mother. My father is still in Somalia, where we are from."

More silence resonated after Jamal finished speaking. Jesse swallowed. Rarely was he humbled in his life, and it showed in his attitude, but this was a powerful exception. New York wasn't the only contribution to the distrust that formed shadows in Jamal's eyes, then. He'd seen things much worse. The matter-of-factness with which Jamal spoke chilled Jesse; he knew it wasn't an act. His roommate had grown up with this life and had accepted it long ago. Jesse suddenly felt a twinge from lying about his own life; while it sucked a bit, it was nothing like what Jamal had been through.

Matt spoke first. "You're lucky to be here," he said softly, with enough compassion for everyone in the room.

Jamal shook his head. "Action brought me here. My mother escaped Africa with us. I dedicated myself to education even in difficult circumstances. No, Matthew Adams, luck has nothing to do with why I am here."

After a very long pause, Jamal rested his eyes on Cory. "You play guitar," he stated. "I saw you bring it in."

Jesse turned to the surfer excitedly. "Do you really?"

Cory chuckled. "Yes, I really do. I needed a hobby to keep me occupied while I waited for the tide to work in my favor… so I took up guitar. Acoustic," he added. "I taught myself and only took a few lessons, so I wouldn't say I'm the best."

"You're probably better than you think," assured Matt diplomatically.

"We should play together when my stuff arrives," Jesse grinned.

"Guitar?"

"Piano. Well, technically keyboard. Can you imagine a professional piano in this little room?" Jesse glanced around. "We wouldn't have room to walk."

"Hey Cory," Matt was practically bouncing up and down in the armchair, "Play something for us."

He laughed. "What, now?"

"Yeah!"

Jamal nodded his agreement – in silence, of course.

Jesse nodded. "Let's hear it. I'll let you know if you're up to par," he smirked.

"Gee, thanks, Jess," Cory called back as he disappeared into bedroom A; he returned shortly with a black, six-string dreadnought guitar slung over his shoulder.

"It's black," Matt remarked, eyes round.

Jesse chuckled and grinned, "Yes, congratulations on stating the obvious, Matt."

The younger boy blushed, but Cory laughed understandingly. "Adds to the appeal, don't you think?"

"Can't go wrong with black," agreed Jesse.

Cory plucked out a few notes, carefully tuning each string. He glanced up and met Jesse's gaze. "Help me out, Jess."

He strummed out a few notes and Jesse caught on quickly, nodding. Cory continued through the song and at the first chorus, America's future Broadway star chimed in.

"_Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear_," he sang, smiling. It felt like the perfect song for the beginning of his freshman year at UCLA. "_And I can't help but ask myself how much I let the fear… Take the wheel and steer…_"

Matt swayed gently in time with the music (_surprisingly_, Jesse thought, _the kid easily found the rhythm_) and Jamal watched from across the room, but Jesse could swear he saw the faintest hint of a smile cross his face. Maybe they wouldn't all end up being the best of friends… but then again, a few things had happened back in Ohio that he hadn't expected. And the RA, Samantha. She was cute, to be sure. Maybe there was something to explore there…. One thing that Jesse knew without a doubt: he was definitely going to enjoy California.

"_Hold the wheel and drive_."

* * *

_**Drive**_** by Incubus.**

Mostly setting up dynamics between characters, but a few things were more intense than I had anticipated. I'm along for the ride just like you.

Please Read and Review! I genuinely want to know what my readers think!


	3. Hotshot

_Fate seems to recreate,  
I just cannot escape,  
Something holds me down and makes me  
act a way I can't explain  
Even now I can feel it coming over me choking me,  
as I'm falling behind  
You can say you know me,  
but you have no clue what my dreams could show you_

The screaming lyrics filtered into Jesse's consciousness slowly, and then seemed to slam into his brain. He bolted upright in bed, head narrowly missing the ceiling; his eyes scanned the room frantically.

Jamal stood next to his bed and tapped the stereo-clock; the song immediately ceased its assault and Jesse flopped back on his pillow, burying his face.

"What," he said, words muffled by the pillow, "the hell was _that_?"

"It is Monday," Jamal replied calmly, looking up at the lofted bed. "My class begins at nine AM. What you heard was an alarm clock, commonly used to awaken the sleeping so as not to miss important events… such as the first class of the fall quarter."

"I know what an alarm clock is," Jesse snapped irritably. "I'm wondering why it's going off so _early_."

"Jesse St. James, it is eight-thirty AM. I do not believe this to be outside the normal realm of awakening, or was I mistaken?"

Jesse lifted his head slightly, scowling down at his bare-chested roommate. After eight already? Damn. He had some sort of meeting for theatre majors specializing in musical theatre at ten, all the way across campus. Groaning, he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"No," he grumbled, "not mistaken. Annoyingly correct."

"May I use the shower?"

"Knock yourself out."

Jesse huffed a sigh as Jamal headed for the single shower, towel in hand. East Melnitz Hall was literally the farthest building from Saxon Suites, and right next to Macgowen Hall where he had two of his classes. What a rip-off. He debated driving his Range Rover, which had arrived last week along with the bulk of his college necessities, but decided to walk – for today, at least. Besides, it would be pointless to walk to breakfast and then come back just for the vehicle.

He jumped from the bed, landing on his feet with the grace of a dancer. One look at the door mirror elicited another groan – his hair had taken on a mind of its own again, and stuck out in random directions. It would take a shower and some serious product to tame it again.

"Happy first day of college," he muttered to himself darkly as he cast another glare at his rebellious reflection.

* * *

"Students! Welcome to UCLA, and welcome to Ray Bolger Musical Theater program," announced the speaker, staring out into the crowd with a broad grin. "My name is Larry Garner, currently the head professor of the musical theater specialization, which is a part of the undergraduate theatre major. However," Professor Garner said, peering over his glasses with a wry smile, "I'm sure that you are all familiar with this."

Jesse folded his arms and crossed his ankles, fixing his gaze on the stage. He had given a perfunctory glance around the room when he had entered, strolling in with a minute to spare. The seats were filled with both males and females, the girls certainly dominating the theatre program. He smirked. An enticing prospect, to be sure.

"Look around," Professor Garner commanded. "Look to your left. Look to your right."

Jesse took the opportunity to grin at the pretty redhead down the row.

"You are all here for the same reason," continued Garner. "You are not the only ones – factor in the upperclassmen as well. These people will become your friends, your colleagues. These people are also your competition. We have three musicals over the course of the year: one for each fall quarter, winter quarter, and spring quarter." The professor swept his gaze over the students, all of whom watched him with reverent silence. "Very few, if any, of you will get roles in these musicals. Realistically, you do not have the experience or the training that your fellow upperclassmen theatre majors have had. You are, of course, encouraged to audition."

A soft chuckle escaped Jesse. He couldn't wait to land the starring role. Oh, maybe not fall quarter… maybe not winter quarter. But spring quarter? Watch him defy the odds. He could – and would – do it. He was Jesse St. James. There were no other options. The redhead glanced over, eyes appreciative of his confidence.

Professor Garner pressed forward with his speech, "I highly recommend getting involved outside the theatre program. Meet other people – you'll get sick of the same crowd all the time," he smiled at the students. "Community outreach. On-campus ministries for all religions. Clubs dedicated to a variety of hobbies and activities. Many opportunities for you to explore; I suggest you look into these as soon as you can."

He gazed around, eyes becoming sharp. "You are all talented. You were accepted into this program because of your abilities. Now the real work begins." He smiled. "Good luck – I hope you're ready."

* * *

"Well that was fun."

Jesse smirked in response to Cory's sarcastic comment. The four roommates lounged, sprawled, leaned and relaxed in the living room, sipping sodas they had picked up from the laundry room vending machines. Matt pressed his can to his neck, sighing deeply.

"Some days it's hard to believe that I've lived in California all my life … you never get used to the heat," he groaned.

Jesse was inclined to agree, although he would be grateful come the winter months – he'd take California heat over Ohio snow any day. It had been hot all week, and he was starting to regret being the owner of only dark-colored shirts. The first week of classes had passed quickly, each of Jesse's four courses loaded with information. Not that they weren't enjoyable – on the contrary, Jesse found himself looking forward to the semester; the Introduction to Performance and Beginning Improvisation in Dance lessons in particular had captured his interest. He was again reminded that the male-female ratio strongly favored the latter, and loved the odds. A roomful of dancers?

Oh yes. He regarded this learning experience with a very strong interest.

"This week was particularly enlightening," Jamal commented. "Would you all agree?"

"'Enlightening' isn't the word that comes to mind," smirked Jesse.

"Remember when the first week of school meant going over syllabi and bringing in folders for credit?" Cory said wistfully. "Those were the days."

"You mean last year?"

"Exactly," Cory chuckled, nodding appreciatively at Jesse. "I already have a quiz scheduled for Monday in my Biology class."

"Ugh," Matt made a face.

Jesse laughed. "I'd think you'd be all over quizzes, being an academic whiz and all," he gave Matt a playful shove."

"Just because I'm good at what I do doesn't mean I enjoy being tested on it all the time. How'd you like to have an audition every day?"

"Point taken."

"Yeah, yeah, exams suck, even in college," Cory rolled his eyes, "we know that. Let's concentrate on the more important things in life…" he leaned in dramatically, roguish grin playing about his mouth. "What about the girls, huh?"

Jamal smiled slightly, Matt gave a nervous giggle, and Jesse laughed outright.

"You don't play around, do ya?"

"Well?" he pressed eagerly.

It surprised everyone when Jamal was the first to speak. "The girls I have encountered in New York do not set a very high standard, but from what I have observed… I do like the way they, how you say, 'make them' in California."

More laughter met this statement, an agreeable sort of laughter.

"Too true," Cory grinned. "I'm a born and raised Cali native, but I'm can still appreciate our very fine _chicas_."

"I'm enrolled in a dance class," smirked Jesse. "How do you think I feel?"

"Like you're in heaven?" Matt supplied quietly.

They all laughed again.

"Accurate description," Jesse agreed good-humoredly. "There's this redhead that I sat near during the Theatre program commencement… she's in my Intro to Design class and I think she's interested."

"There is Samantha also," Jamal added.

"And there's Samantha."

Cory quirked an eyebrow. "Have you ever met a female that doesn't fall at your feet with a glance from you?"

"Rarely."

Jamal looked toward Matt. "You have nothing to add?"

The youngest boy shrugged. "I don't think my chances are very good. I mean, yeah, the girls are pretty – I know that. There's something about LA… but unless I meet another person who's supposed to be a high school junior – and unless that person's name is Lisa or something equally female – fairly certain I'm screwed."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Cory said sympathetically. "It's just not possible for all girls to be that shallow. I mean, come on. It's a two- or three-year difference. I'm sure there's someone on this campus that's just waiting for a brainiac like you." He gave Matt his trademark grin in reassurance.

Matt shrugged noncommittally.

"And you?" Jesse raised an eyebrow in Jamal's direction, "Seen any girls that catch your interest?"

Jamal shook his head, dreadlocks shifting over his shoulders. "I do not believe that dating is in my immediate plans, Jesse."

"Why's that?" Matt wondered aloud.

"My focus should be on academia and gaining a job," Jamal explained. "My family will still need additional income and I have an obligation to them. Forming a romantic relationship with another, this year at the very least, will not be conducive to my responsibilities – those to myself and to my family."

"Ah," Cory nodded understandably. "Logical and admirable, Jamal. Well done."

"I think you could do it," offered Jesse with a shrug. "Plenty of people do what you've just suggested and have a girlfriend to boot."

"Regardless," Jamal fixed his hard eyes on Jesse, "it is my life to live, and not yours on which to be opinionated."

Jesse held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Jamal." The apology did not quite reach his eyes, and he knew that Jamal saw this.

Matt shifted his eyes uneasily from one boy to the other, shrinking back into his chair. Tension crackled in the air as they eyed each other.

Cory (as usual) came to the rescue. "All right, kids, it's been a long week. I'm looking forward to sleeping in, personally, so bed sounds like a marvelous idea to me."

"Yeah," Matt stood quickly, "me too."

"Promise you won't kill each other during the night?" Cory glanced from Jesse to Jamal.

The tension broke (or the very least lessened quite a bit). Jesse chuckled smoothly.

"Sure, Cory. No problem."

Jamal returned Cory's glance squarely and in silence, which was taken as an affirmative.

"Good," Cory said. "I've got a research paper due in a week… anyone up for a field trip in the morning?"

* * *

Located centrally on UCLA's campus was the Powell Library Building, specifically designated as the research place-to-be for undergraduate humanities courses. Its four floors contained shelves of information and the aid of technology – perfect for the hard-working student intent on well-constructed, investigative papers.

The four roommates spent late Saturday morning on the second floor of this library, occupying a corner of the main reading room; books were spread on the tables and laptops were perched on legs, generally with headphones attached (except Jamal, who appeared to work just fine without their aid). All the boys had, for the most part, looks of concentration on their faces, ranging in expressions from intense frowns (Jesse) to excited half-smiles (Matt). When lunchtime rolled around at almost 1:30 that afternoon, they saved their progress and packed their bags with relief.

"I hate college," Jesse grumbled as they headed out the doors toward the Powell Study Court.

"No you don't," Cory corrected. "You hate studying."

"Speak for yourself," said Matt with a broad grin, rarely seen. "I can't believe how much I've learned just in three hours!"

"You are such a nerd," Jesse rolled his eyes. "I mean that benevolently, of course."

Jamal listened to the banter in silence, which surprised no one.

A cursory glance across the study court suddenly pulled Cory up short. Matt, walking slightly behind as he was wont to do, slammed into his immobile friend and let out a grunt of surprise. Jamal and Jesse sent questioning looks toward the blonde-haired boy; Cory raised his eyebrows and nodded exaggeratedly toward one of the tables on the edge of the study court in response. The other three roommates quickly followed his gaze.

"It's a girl," Matt said (somewhat unintelligently).

"_Such_ a girl," Cory breathed.

She sat under the shade of a nearby tree, head bent studiously over a thick textbook. She was lithe and naturally golden-skinned, delicate fingers flipping through the book's pages occasionally. Cropped raven hair partially obscured her face, but Jesse could see she had a pert nose and full mouth. The girl wore a red tank and low-cut jeans with boyish sandals, a sliver of toned stomach peeking between the materials.

"Hey," Jesse said slowly, "I think I've seen her before… she's in my dance improve class."

"You're kidding me," Matt exhaled in a wistful sigh.

Cory nudged Jesse. "Go talk to her."

"Yeah?"

"They fall at your feet with a glance, right?"

Jesse chuckled and elbowed him good-naturedly, watching the girl closely. She seemed enthralled with her work, eyes scanning the words rapidly. Jesse shrugged as if to say 'fine, whatever, this could be entertaining' and without much more encouragement, he strode over to the table and smoothly slid onto the bench across from her. He tilted his head, reading the spine of the book.

"Astronomy… that sounds interesting."

"And that sounds like a pick-up line if I ever heard one." Her voice caressed the words as though she chose each inflection deliberately; she sounded bored, but not hostile, which Jesse took positively.

He smirked. "Maybe I'm just curious."

"Or maybe not," the girl shot back.

"A class for your major?"

"Yes." Yes. No more, no less. Didn't mince words, did she?

Jesse prodded, "And that would be…?"

"Astrophysics."

"No kidding."

The girl's mouth tilted into a slight smirk. "I get that a lot."

"You're in my dance improvisation class, you know."

"Am I?"

The trademark smirk became more pronounced at her indifference. "Jesse St. James."

Her eyes remained fixed on the pages, not bothering with a reply.

"Usually at this point in an introduction, you're supposed to give your name."

"Usually." The girl looked up for the first time, meeting his gaze evenly. He stared back, taking in her eyes. Upon first glance they seemed green, but when she tilted her head he saw flashes of deep purple. "Look, hotshot, just say what you came to say and be done with it."

He grinned at her endearingly. "Maybe I just want to know your name. Is that too much to ask?"

"Guys like you never 'just want' anything," she rolled her unusual eyes.

"Guys like me." More statement than fact, he made sure to inject the appropriate amount of challenge into his tone.

She wasn't fazed. "Yeah. I know your type, hotshot. I'm not interested."

His smirk faded a bit. Who did she think she was? He hadn't even come on to her and she was disregarding him like he was a nobody. Jesse St. James was not a nobody. "You don't know anything about me."

"Nope. If you don't mind, I'd really like to keep it that way."

"I'm a performer. I'm here studying musical theatre."

"Uh huh."

"Full ride scholarship. My glee club – Vocal Adrenaline, maybe you've heard of us – won Nationals four years running."

"Congratulations."

Trademark St. James smirk returning in full force, "So you _are_ listening."

The girl slammed her book shut and glared. "Okay hotshot, listen up. Not. Interested. I'm not sure how it works wherever you're from –"

"Ohio," he interjected smoothly.

"Whatever. There are a dozen guys like you on this campus."

"Not exactly like me," his eyes flashed with arrogance.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she warned, "The point is, lose the swagger, and lose the attitude. Not so attractive around here." She placed the astronomy book neatly in her bag and gracefully stood, swinging the backpack over her shoulder. "Come back when you've learned a thing or two about etiquette. Last I checked, hitting on a girl while she's studying isn't cool." She spun on her heel and started up the walk.

Jesse stood quickly and called after her. "Wait!"

The girl paused, glancing back.

"After all that… can't I at least have your name?" _Careful, St. James. That is dangerously close to pleading, and just a few steps from begging_. He would never fall so far.

The girl smirked impishly, as if she could read his thoughts. "And why would I give you that?"

Jesse ground his teeth. She was a spitfire, that one. "I asked."

"You need to be knocked down a few more pegs yet, I think."

He scowled.

"Aw, but that's cute," she smiled, eyes teasing.

The scowl darkened. He was not going to be this girl's plaything. "Whatever," he muttered, turning to walk toward his friends, all of whom seemed to be suspiciously hiding smirks.

"Hey hotshot."

It was his turn to hesitate and look back. They held gazes for a long moment, seizing each other up. She broke into a broad smile and Jesse was startled by how that one act softened her face and made her eyes dance mischievously.

"It's Alexandrite."

Jesse smirked. "Can't imagine why."

Alexandrite rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Call me Alex."

"Alex. Right," he nodded.

She waved and grinned as she continued on her way. "See ya around, hotshot."

He stared after her for a good minute before regaining his senses. He could honestly say that he'd never met a girl quite like this Alex. She easily matched his wit, and didn't seem to be intimidated by him. In fact, she acted like he wasn't worth her time. Definitely not what he expected. She was beautiful to match, although her dismissal of him left something to be desired …

"…It's Jesse," he said to the wind – she had already disappeared around a building.

Shaking his head, Jesse traipsed back to the trio of boys waiting on the sidewalk, eyes turned to the sky in thought. He did, however, hear the laughter and turned his gaze to Matt and Cory, scowling.

"What?"

"So how did that falling at your feet thing go?" Cory sniggered.

Jesse felt like snarling, but settled for a tight smile instead. "I believe those were _your_ words, not mine."

"Could be," the surfer agreed. "So?"

"So what?"

"Please tell me you got her name, at least!"

"I bet it's something really pretty," Matt said dreamily. "Like Isabella … or Tiffany."

Jesse gave him a definite 'wow that was such a weird thing to say' look, eyebrow raised. "Her name's Alexandrite."

"Ale-what?" Cory asked incredulously.

"Alexandrite. Probably named for the gemstone," Matt informed them smartly.

Jesse nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

"So you're gonna ask her out, right?" Cory's grin was playful and, according to Jesse, completely unwarranted.

"Uh, maybe you missed the part where she turned me down flat – and I didn't even do anything. I wouldn't want to go out with someone like her anyway. Is she beautiful? Damn straight. But I'm not going to chase her."

"She's a challenge," Matt piped up. "You seem like someone who would like a challenge."

"I'm not going to chase her," Jesse repeated firmly. It was beneath him to run after girls who clearly weren't interested. Smile and seduce was more his style.

"Your loss," Cory grumbled under his breath.

Rolling his eyes, Jesse shouldered past the surfer. "Drop it. Weren't we on our way to lunch?"

From around the corner of the library, a pair of sparkling eyes watched with a smile.

* * *

_Grim Goodbye_ by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

A/N: As I'm not a UCLA student, I apologize for any discrepancies between the actual campus and the campus of my story. I plead creative license!

Read and review!


	4. Reaching Out

"Listen up!"

Jesse glanced to the front of the dance studio. It felt like a lazy Monday, and the last class of the afternoon was sure to be torture, even if it was dance. He sat against a wall, arms casually slung over his bent knees; his attention had been drawn by the two instructors of WLD ART 16 – Angelina Leung, head of the World Arts department as well as professor, and Sara Letty, a graduate student. Leung was fair but strict, and had extensive dance knowledge. Jesse respected her as a dancer and had already learned a few things, although it was only the second week of school.

"This week's assignment: partner dances." A low murmur spread across the class, girls whispering to each other excitedly. Jesse wasn't fooled; the gender ratio of theatre applied here as well, and he doubted that they'd be able to pick their own partners. It wouldn't be nearly as idealistic as they thought.

"You and your partner," Leung continued as the class quieted. She had a gift for making the students listen. "You will select a song. The dances are to be a minute and a half at the least, but no more than two minutes. This is the only guideline – the dance itself is open to interpretation." She held an open palm out to Sara, who handed over a clipboard. "Before this lesson, I randomly selected partners for this project."

Jesse smirked in satisfaction, listening to the groans that rose from the group en masse. Exactly as he thought – he knew better.

"I'll read off the partners and you can get started right away." The professor began listing off paired names in a brisk fashion, allowing a slight pause during which partners found each other. Jesse looked around languidly, waiting for his name; he spotted the familiar girl with unusual eyes near the door – Alex? – and offered a slight wave. She resolutely ignored him, keeping her gaze locked on Professor Leung.

"Jesse St. James… and Alexandrite Sheppard!"

Jesse blinked, his mouth slowly curving into a smirk. _Someone, somewhere, must be having fun playing with this dynamic_, he thought with a mental chuckle. He saw Alex roll her eyes from across the room, no doubt in response to the smugness on his face.

"You'll have today and Wednesday's class periods to choreograph," Professor Leung said when the list had been read. "You will present your partner dances to the class on Friday; I will have signup sheets for order of performances next class." She smiled broadly, eyes crinkling at the corners. "You and your partner may begin."

Alex didn't move except to flick her eyes to Jesse's. Smirk firmly in place, he got to his feet and sauntered over to where she stood, arms crossed defiantly.

"I haven't even touched you yet," he said with a haughty tone, eyes measuring her expression.

"We can absolutely keep it that way," Alex shot back.

"So hostile."

"So what?"

Jesse sighed. "You know, I have to ask. Is there any particular reason you hate my guts, or am I just lucky?"

"You're just lucky." Alex uncrossed her arms and rolled her shoulders a little, loosening her joints. "I have a song for us to dance to."

"I thought this was supposed to be a partner dance," Jesse said, a sulky edge to his voice. "I don't have a say in the matter?"

Alex smiled slightly, the change in demeanor again striking Jesse. "Aw, c'mon, hotshot, don't pout. As a dancer, I'm sure you'll appreciate the musicality of what I have in mind."

"Don't count on it."

"That's just spiteful."

"Well… fine, what is it?"

She told him, watching as his eyes darted back and forth, clearly running through notes, rhythms and lyrics in his head, finally smiling in satisfaction when he grinned.

"So is that a yes?"

He gazed down at the spunky girl and mock sighed. "As a song choice… it's all right." Jesse hid a smile as Alex gave a disbelieving bark of laughter. "Okay, maybe you know something about dance."

"Yeah, maybe something."

Her tone was slightly harder and he raised an eyebrow, but didn't push. "Let's get started?"

"Let's."

* * *

Jesse lay flat on his back on his covers, staring up at the ceiling, headphones firmly in place. It helped him to relax at the end of the day, especially after a workout like earlier. Alex was a fantastic partner to have – she really knew what she was doing. He suspected she had a background in dance, and a thorough one at that. She didn't talk much, though, preferring to work on the dance, so he didn't have a chance to ask. He took issue with a few minor details – she refused to fully point her toes (at least on her right foot) and her movements were a bit too flow-y for his tastes, but overall he liked her as a dance partner.

Outside of class was a separate matter. As soon as Sara had dismissed them, Alex took off to some unknown destination. Probably another class, the rate she was going, but it miffed Jesse slightly that she hadn't stuck around to talk at all. Not even a bid of farewell. Of course, it was of no great concern to him.

He rolled over, yanking the buds from his ears. While he was thinking of things that were of no great concern…

The phone lit up obediently and Jesse scrolled through the names until he reached one of the few that did not belong to his circle of people at UCLA. It was familiar, though, and he hadn't checked back in some time; a small wiggle of guilt squirmed as he hit the green button and listened to the sound of ringing in the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Shelby?"

"Jesse!" Shelby exclaimed; he was pleased to hear a genuine note of surprise and happiness in her voice. "Hold on a sec…" He heard the short exchange on the other end, though somewhat muted: "Take her upstairs. Yes, that Jesse. Will, I'll be up soon. Just read her a story or something. Yes… go!"

"Will?" Jesse couldn't help the shock that was sure to be detected in his tone, "As in Schuester?"

"Ah, yes." Shelby sounded a little embarrassed, in a 'you-caught-me' sort of way. "He helps me take care of Beth."

"Only Beth?"

"Well, we might be seeing each other outside the house. A little."

Jesse frowned slightly. "Hold on. I thought he liked the guidance counselor – Ms. Pillsbury?"

"He does," Shelby said matter-of-factly.

The frown deepened. "Okay, you lost me."

"She's dating someone else. A dentist. Not that I can blame her… he's almost a dead ringer for that one actor – what's his name – John Stamos. I'm not a fan of the glasses, but –"

"Shelby," he interrupted her tirade, holding back a smile. It was nice to hear her out of hard-core coach mode.

"Sorry Jesse." She took a breath, "Anyway, she's seeing someone, so Will asked me out at the beginning of the school year."

"Not that it's any of my business, but really, Shelby? He's using you to make Ms. P jealous."

"Yes." She said it simply, and Jesse scowled. What was going on? This didn't sound like the Shelby he knew. "It's good for me, Jesse," she tried to explain, "Eases me back into dating without having to worry about anything serious. I've got my hands full with Beth as it is. It's good for Will too. He's great at playing Dad and he loves it. I think it helps him move past the mess with his ex-wife," she added in a whisper.

_Ah_. "Divorced at last, then?"

"Papers went through over the summer." He knew the sound of triumph when he heard it, but did not pursue the topic. He hadn't been close to Schue anyway.

"That's good, I guess. How's Beth doing?"

In his mind's eye, Jesse watched the appearance of a smile that lit up Shelby's face, all the way to her eyes. "Wonderful. She's just turned four months – smiles at everything and hardly cries at all. We think she'll have darker hair like her father –"

"Sans Mohawk, hopefully."

"But almost everything else is Quinn. Thank God," she added in an undertone, which made Jesse laugh.

"She'll be beautiful, Shelby," he told her sincerely.

"Thanks, Jesse. Oh, but I'm talking way too much. Forgive my bragging…. What about you? How do you like California?"

Jesse shrugged. "It hot most days, and sunny. We haven't had rain since I got here. Can't complain now that October is on its way in… I remember the autumns of Ohio. Hopefully we'll be heading to the coast next week."

"You've never been to the ocean before, right? I think I remember talking to you about that."

"Nope."

"Be careful of those waves. Nasty undertow."

"I will, Shelby," he replied obediently.

"And you're enjoying your classes?" she asked.

"For the most part. It's a lot of work – essays and projects. My roommates and I spent the majority of Saturday holed up in the library."

"Well, it is college."

He sighed. "I know. It's more performance than anything else, and no vocal classes at all this quarter."

The professional in Shelby, dying to make its appearance, "But you're still practicing?"

Jesse chuckled. "Yes, Shelby. Of course I am."

"What about movement and dance?"

"I have a dance improve class three days a week," he said, "Today we were paired up for a partner dance. Our class presentation is on Friday."

"Sounds like fun. You've never choreographed your own dance before."

"Don't I know it." He winced – the slight edge in his voice wouldn't be overlooked. Shelby was apparently content to ignore certain topics as well, though, for she continued her line of questioning without a pause.

"Who's your partner?"

"Her name's Alex. You'd like her, I think," Jesse smiled. "She's rough around the edges, very no nonsense. Likes to get her way."

"Do you like her?"

He shrugged again, knowing full well the effect was lost during a phone conversation. "She's a good dancer, but a little sloppy."

"Jesse."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You know that isn't what I mean."

He laughed softly. "She's all right. Smart," he said thoughtfully. "She doesn't like me much, but we work together just fine."

"I see. It's a great experience, working with people that you don't always get along with – that's how it is most days in any career." Leave it to Shelby to slip in some advice during a casual conversation.

("Shelby!") Jesse heard the urgent call through the line and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that doesn't sound good," Shelby worried. "Thanks for calling, Jesse. It's nice to hear from you."

"Yeah, no problem." Jesse knew how to take his social cues. This was going to turn into a very hurried good-bye.

"Send me an email, okay? Let me know all about UCLA."

"Sure."

"Bye!" _Click_.

"Bye, Shelby…"

Jesse closed the phone with a punctuated _snap_ and sighed deeply. It was nice to have someone who actually cared about him back in Ohio, even if it wasn't someone of flesh and blood. He let out a snort at the thought. It was odd, though, to think of life moving on back home. Nothing much changed there, but he supposed that maybe something did… in an abstract type of way. Beth would grow up. Become a cheerleader like her mother, perhaps. Shelby would meet someone. And other people

_(Rachel)_

would change as well. Jesse wondered who was running the rehearsals for Vocal Adrenaline now. Sectionals would be coming up soon – just a couple months, he realized with a pang. Time moved much faster now that he'd left high school. Did that happen for everyone?

His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. A mass of blonde curls poked inside.

"Hey, Jesse," Samantha greeted with a smile, looking up at him. "Mind if we talk?"

"Uh, sure." He leapt from the bed with a silent landing and followed Sam into the hall. He was well aware of the university's rules about the boundaries between RAs and their charges. Sam had been very clear about those at one of the many meetings.

She ushered him into the second floor study room, gesturing to a chair. Shaking his head minutely, Jesse stood, leaning back against a wall with hands buried in pockets. He studied her intently. He couldn't possibly be in trouble already.

Sam did sit, gazing back at him. She wasn't intimidated. "Jesse, I'm just going to come out and say this."

"Yeah?"

"I noticed you've introduced yourself to Alexandrite Sheppard."

Jesse hid his surprise well. "She prefers Alex." This was about the girl who couldn't remember names?

"Yes, her. I've heard from her RA that – well. She sounds like trouble, Jesse."

"O…kay?"

"She doesn't like to cooperate," Sam explained with a bright smile. "Keeps to herself mostly. A girl like that can't be good news. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Great!" Sam stood, curls bobbing, and flashed another winning grin. "I'll see you later, Jesse."

"Wait."

She paused, turning slightly to meet his stare.

"This isn't some sort of conflict of interest, is it?"

"I don't know what you mean. As your RA, I'm just looking out for your well-being. It's my job to make sure that your first year at UCLA is the best you'll have."

"Right."

Sam smiled and shrugged. "Catch ya later, then!"

Jesse watched her go and shook his head. What the hell was that all about? His well-being? He released a groan of aggravation, running both hands through his hair. He was scowling when he looked up again. Who was she to tell him who he could and couldn't talk to? Although, in retrospect, she hadn't actually done just that. It was more of a general warning. Trouble. Ha.

_I think I can handle it._

* * *

"Point your toe!" Jesse hissed.

"I'm doing the best I can!" Alex retorted, slapping his hands away.

"Don't give me that." Jesse fixed a steely glare on her face. "I know you can do better. The extension on your left leg is unreal – all the way past one hundred-eighty degrees – but your right food seems to be in a permanent flex!" He threw his hands up in frustration, practically growling the words.

"That's the way it is, hotshot. Shove off." She wouldn't quite meet his eyes. For some reason, that infuriated him further.

"You're my partner. It'll look stupid if I'm flawless, pointed toes and all, and you are less than perfection!"

"It's a dance class! No one's going to care!" Alex whispered furiously.

"I care." He grabbed her leg with one hand and bent her foot flat with the other. "Point!"

Alex screamed and ripped her leg out of his grasp, staring at him with a mix of horror and anger. He watched her eyes become watery and stepped back. She spun suddenly and took off running, the studio door flying open with a bang before she disappeared around the corner.

What the hell?

Jesse slowly turned away from the door, acutely aware of the sudden silence of the room, through students should have been conversing freely about their dances. A few dozen eyes met his gaze, most filled with confusion. He shifted his attention to Professor Leung, who looked back at him calmly. She'd seen her fair share of partner disagreements. She'd also been watching the pair when the angry exchange occurred and knew why Sheppard ran.

"You can't do a partner dance without a partner, St. James."

* * *

He found her in the corridor furthest from the dance studio, huddled in a corner, knees drawn up to her chest. She was running her hands over her right ankle carefully, alternately flexing and timidly pointing her toes. Jesse could see the streaks on her face from where the tears made their trail and felt a flash of guilt. Which was stupid, to him. He hadn't actually done anything wrong. He suppressed a sigh. Ugh. She was probing at her ankle with her fingertips now, from different angles.

"What are you doing?"

Alex looked up quickly, eyes narrowing in recognition. She snatched her hands away from her ankle and wrapped them around her knees instead, subtly wiping at her cheeks. "Nothing."

"Yeah," Jesse rolled his eyes, "looks like nothing."

She glared up at him, giving a small sniff. "What do you want?"

He ignored her question. "Are you hurt?"

No answer. Just those eyes, unfathomably unique, that stared up.

"Did I hurt you?"

Her gaze slid away from his face and she looked at the wall across from her. Softly, she replied, "No."

Jesse sighed aloud this time. He walked over and leaned against the wall beside her, slowly sliding down until they sat side by side. He stared at the opposite wall like she did, but he knew that they were seeing two different things.

"I'm sorry."

Alex blinked and twisted her head slightly to watch his profile. "Really?"

Jesse barked a short laugh. "Of course really. I'm not an awful person," he glanced over briefly, "despite what you seem to think."

She returned her gaze to the wall. "Force of habit," she said simply.

_Like that's an explanation_. They sat in silence, staring at the same blank canvas and seeing nothing of the same sorts. Jesse closed his eyes; he leaned his head back.

"Are you okay?"

"As okay as I can be."

Ah, yes. He heard the story behind those six little words. He didn't know the story, but she had one. Just like he did.

"I have to be perfect." Oh no. Word vomit. He didn't have to justify himself to her. So why was he trying? "Sometimes I push too hard." Sigh. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand better than you think," Alex whispered.

His eyes opened and he looked at her, really looked at her. Her gaze was far away, in a time that was not the present. She looked so sad. So different without the gleam in her eye, the curve of a smile on her mouth. He hated that, for some reason. What was it about this girl? She provoked emotions in him that had no business surfacing, especially now. Still… he didn't like seeing her stare at the blank wall, her eyes equally vacant.

"Tell me."

Alex shook her head. "It's not really my style to hand out personal anecdotes. I don't even know you that well."

"If you'll recall," Jesse said with a slight smile, "I offered to change that last week." She remained quiet and staring, biting her lip. Jesse sighed. "C'mon. You look like you need to talk."

Alex closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. "How about… can I tell you a story instead?"

Jesse smiled softly, sadness in his eyes, and touched her shoulder.

"Whatever you want, Alex."

* * *

Tension all around! This is actually part of what was meant to be one chapter… and look how well that turned out. The conclusion to this cliffhanger will be delivered – if you ask nicely. That can be achieved through REVIEWS! They honestly help me write.

Oh, and I'd like to add that all 3,000+ words were written in a 12-hour time span. Procrastinate much? Yes I do. Couldn't disappoint my readers, could I? If that impresses you … let me know!


	5. Baring of Souls

"Whatever you want, Alex," Jesse said softly.

Alex took a deep breath and hugged her knees closer to her chest. "Once upon a time, not so long ago, a girl lived in Maryland. The girl was called… Jackie. Jackie had long dark hair and eyes that were different. Unusual, you would say. She didn't mind, though. People paid attention to her eyes. Jackie liked attention, because it was difficult to come by at home," Alex sighed, with that same distant look in her eyes.

_Eyes_, Jesse thought, _that could be seen as unusual_.

"At home," Alex continued, "Jackie lived with her mother, father, and sister. Her sister was four years older and much more beautiful than Jackie was. Everyone always said so; she heard them, even when they thought she didn't. Even her parents said so," she whispered, "but they never tried to hide it from Jackie.

"Jackie only felt beautiful when she was dancing." A small smile touched Alex's face then, just a glimmer of happiness. "She was a wonderful dancer, really, even though she had started late – at ten. The instructors said that she had the gift of movement, and she advanced quickly. It wasn't long before Jackie was starring in the upper level showcases. She liked being the best. And she liked seeing her parents in the front row, beaming proudly as the other parents congratulated them on what a great dancer they had raised," Alex said this last bit a little sarcastically, and Jesse could relate; it wasn't her parents who had encouraged her to dance (because by now it was obvious that Jackie's story was really Alex's story too).

Alex shook her head slightly as if to clear it. "Jackie danced all through middle school, often performing solos when the other dance students fell behind. She was in each of the yearly talent shows at her school, and won twice. We won't talk about the third one," she rolled her eyes. "When it was time for high school, Jackie approached her parents about attending The Ailey School in New York for the Professional Performing Arts program. She was worried, because her sister had just graduated and was headed to an expensive college, but Ailey had offered her a full ride scholarship. Jackie had sent in an audition tape, you see, and they were impressed. When she mentioned it, her parents immediately agreed, and Jackie was happy." Alex didn't sound happy, though, and Jesse knew that the story didn't stop there.

"When she entered Ailey, Jackie was not the best. Not even close. She was not as flexible, not as strong… not as perfect," Alex threw a rueful smile at Jesse, who flinched a little. The smile twitched and she continued speaking, "At the first show, Jackie was just a background dancer. Her parents had come from Maryland to see her perform, but they did not smile as brightly. At the second show, they didn't even bother showing up," the fierce bitterness in her voice was cutting, and Jesse actually felt sorry for Alex. He had experience with absent parents himself and couldn't imagine what it was like for her – expecting them to show, and watching those empty seats for an entire recital…

"Jackie was quite upset by this development," Alex said softly, omitting that 'Jackie' had actually cried for days – she had been fourteen, after all. Who had parents that abandoned their child at fourteen? "It made her work harder. After her two afternoon dance classes, she stayed to train longer. She would run before school and before going back to the living center to improve cardiovascular endurance, and she would stretch before she went to bed to become more flexible." She laughed humorlessly. "It worked, too. Halfway through her sophomore year, and Jackie had reached the ability level of a senior. She was back on top. Maybe not the best in the school – yet – but the best in her class for sure. She hardly ever performed with her peers but instead danced with the upperclassmen.

"Her parents were back in the front row by her first show of junior year, beaming again. That year passed quickly… many things happened…" Alex's voice trailed off and she released a shuddering breath. Jesse knew those 'many things' were being left out of the story, but for a reason. She was right, after all – he and Alex weren't that close. Life-altering events not related to her dancing weren't relevant for this storytelling. Alex shook her head again. "At the last show of junior year, agents from major dance companies all over the country were invited. Jackie was approached after the show by half a dozen of them; if this was her junior year, what would she be able to do with another year of training? Jackie was happy again. The attention was on her."

At this point, Alex leaned her head back, resting against the wall, and closed her eyes tightly. She let out a shuddering breath.

"Jackie trained harder than ever before over the summer, because she wanted to join a company so badly. It would take her away from home, get her out on her own. She so desperately wanted that. Senior year arrived…" Jesse noticed that her hands had clenched into white-knuckled fists and her eyes were squeezed shut. "It was September. There hadn't even been a performance yet. Just a regular dance class. Jackie was rehearsing a routine that would be featured for the senior showcase…"

Alex's breath caught and Jesse realized that she was trying to not break down. He swallowed and hesitantly reached over, covering her clenched hands with his own. A single tear escaped and he watched it fall slowly down her cheek.

"I tore a tendon," Alex whispered, abandoning the Jackie pretense, "in my right ankle. I dropped like a stone. You can't imagine what it felt like. I didn't even know what had happened. I was in the hospital within an hour and in surgery within three. The doctors said that the tendon was frayed and they'd had to graft it. It shortened the ligament, though, just enough to be devastating for a dancer. And I wouldn't be able to dance for six weeks while it healed. Six weeks," she said, almost to herself. "Hell, I couldn't even walk on it. I was in a splint and on crutches, sitting in my classes, staring at my classmates in envy."

She sighed deeply, another tear creeping down her face. "After six weeks, the splint came off. But scar tissue had formed, as it tends to in the human body. I couldn't move my ankle smoothly and the shortened tendon meant that my extension was nowhere near where it should have been. I could barely point. When I tried to go beyond what it wanted to, I needed ice for a week.

Just like that, my professional dance days were over."

The silence in the hallway was deafening. Jesse stared at the wall, seeing nothing. He couldn't imagine not performing on stage. It was his life. He'd be lost.

"That's why you freaked out," he said softly, not looking at Alex.

"It can always tear again."

"And you said that… Jackie… had had long hair?"

"I cut it. No need to have a reminder of my failed dreams every time I looked in a mirror."

"…I'm sorry."

"You didn't know."

"In general… about everything… I'm sorry."

The tears had cleared from her eyes when Alex turned toward him. "Thank you," she said, quietly but sincerely. A small smirk touched her mouth. "Now it's your turn."

Jesse narrowed his eyes. This was the Alex he was used to. "My turn?"

"You know," Alex shrugged, "I bare my soul, you bare yours. It's only fair, hotshot."

"Yeah," he replied in a tone close to a growl, "I guess it is." Didn't mean he had to be happy about it. Jesse frowned, looking thoughtful. "What would you like to know?"

"It's your story, isn't it?"

He took a deep breath. That girl really was a spitfire. He carefully filtered through his memories and the little knowledge he had of Alex, pondering what she'd most like to hear. She mentioned something about taking him down a few pegs during their first meeting… she thought him arrogant. Not untrue, he admitted to himself reluctantly.

"I've been in love before."

Ah. _That_ one surprised her, if the raised eyebrow and skeptical twist of mouth was anything to judge.

"Do tell," she said, posture relaxing slightly. Her hands weren't in fists anymore, at least.

"Back in Ohio," Jesse began, "there's a girl. Her name's Rachel. I first met her at a book store across town, and we sang together. I remember it quite clearly, because no girl in my glee club could even hope to compare with the voice that this perky little brunette had." A secret sort of smile appeared on his face. "She was adorable, really, but quite naïve and still new to the ways of the world outside her own ambitions." The smile faded. "Come to find out, she was actually the daughter of my glee coach. Shelby, that's her name. Shelby wanted to meet Rachel, but seeing as how Rach was a minor still, Shelby couldn't approach her as bio-mom."

Jesse sighed and ran a hand through his slightly mussed hair. "That's where I came in. Meeting her in the bookstore was real, and how I felt about her was real… mostly. But it was mainly manipulation on my part, making it so that Rachel would want to meet her birth mother. Before I could really _do_ anything, though, she had to go and screw it up." He laughed harshly. "I'd changed schools by then—"

"You changed schools?" Alex interrupted incredulously. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow; she had the decency to blush. "Sorry," she mumbled, "go on."

"At McKinley, her school, she had already dated some. It didn't surprise me, not much. Both jocks, couldn't really sing that well – but that's just me," he smirked. "Long story short, it was obvious that Rachel wasn't really a one-man girl. Not yet. She hurt me deeply, if only because I thought I was so great that she shouldn't have needed anyone else. I'm Jesse St. James," he ignored the exaggerated eye-roll that came from Alex, "and the awe in her voice when we met…" He made a sound of frustration. "How she could just up and throw that away, I'll never know. I did love her, before. We could have been together for a long time, but after that…

"I went on spring break with Vocal Adrenaline the next week, and it gave me time to clear my head. It also gave Shelby an opportunity to remind about why I was supposed to be dating Rachel in the first place. Get Rachel to connect with Shelby, come back to Vocal Adrenaline and win Regionals… and later, Nationals. So I went back to Rach after that week, and she was so relieved that she never questioned why I accepted her betrayal so easily."

"It's a girl thing," Alex muttered darkly, almost to herself. Jesse glanced over, wondering if that was even meant for his ears, but brushed past the comment.

"Everything went according to plan from there. Rachel met Shelby. Shelby found out that the world wasn't as perfect as she thought it was meant to be. I went back to VA… breaking Rachel's heart in the process." He ran a hand over his face. "She looked so confused when she first saw me with my team. And later, when I broke the egg on her head –"

"You've got to be kidding me," exclaimed Alex with eyes glinting. "You broke her heart _and_ you smashed an egg on her head?"

"I had to prove my loyalty to my team," Jesse replied defensively. "It wasn't anything personal."

"Yeah. That's exactly what it sounds like," she rolled her eyes, an expression of disgust on her face. "What was the point of this story, exactly? Proving that you really are ruthless enough to shove everyone out of the way to get to the top?"

"No," Jesse said stupidly.

"What, then?"

"I can't be totally self-centered if I've loved someone, can I?"

"You clobbered her with an egg, hotshot. Forgive me if I don't see the bright side to your pretty little tale."

Jesse groaned and threw up his hands. "Woman, you are impossible!"

Alex giggled.

He whipped his head around so fast his neck cracked. Wincing, he met her eyes. "Did you seriously just _giggle_? Like every other girl in America is wont to do?"

She giggled again, covering her mouth, but the sound still reached his ears. He shook his head. "You're an enigma, Alex Sheppard."

"Thank you," she smirked.

Jesse glanced up at a clock that jutted from the wall and sighed. "I suppose we'd better get back to class. Professor Leung won't be happy we missed so much class time."

Alex shrugged. "She'll have us make it up on our own time. No big deal."

Climbing to his feet, Jesse extended an open palm to Alex. "C'mon. I won't make you point your toe."

"No, you won't," she agreed as she slapped her hand into his and he hauled her up. They walked down the hall in silence, Alex gazing into space thoughtfully.

"Hey hotshot."

"Yes, Alex."

"You ever talk to Rachel anymore?"

The pause was so significant that she wondered if she'd even spoken the question aloud, but Jesse finally answered with a note of regret in his voice.

"No. I don't."

* * *

"St. James! Sheppard! You're up!"

"Kick, leap, glissee, turn, lift…" Alex muttered under her breath as she pushed away from the wall, stepping lightly to the center of the dance studio. Jesse met her there, smirking slightly.

"Relax," he whispered in her ear as they moved into position, one behind the other, "it's just dance class. No one's going to care if it isn't perfect," he teased, echoing her words from earlier in the week. She threw him a fleeting glare; he easily defused it with a trademark Jesse smirk, familiar territory for them both. It calmed her.

He rested one hand on her hip and wrapped his other one around hers, squeezing lightly as they raised their arms in tandem. They stood poised, he staring over her head and catching her eyes in the wall-to-wall mirror across the room. Alex gave him a shaky smile before the music began.

_She's fine, most of the time_

_She takes her days with a smile_

From the first beat they moved fluidly together, interacting much more than they had agreed to in the beginning. He dipped her, lifted her, spun her. Their movements were flawless, seemingly less choreographed and more natural than the other partners before them, with a slight undercurrent of emotional charge that was difficult to fake. Not adoration or devotion, nothing romantic of sorts, but an emotion not in any category, a tentative friendship and newfound respect, perhaps. It was palpable in the air.

_Breathe, just breathe  
Take the world off your shoulders  
And put it on me  
Breathe, just breathe  
Let the life that you live  
Be all that you need_

Jesse gracefully danced on autopilot – they had rehearsed until late into last night, and he doubted he would ever forget the steps – while his mind followed the lyrics idly. He and Alex had reached a truce of sorts, or so it felt. _Because really_, he thought while they arabesque-d as one, _you_ _can't spill a major life secret to someone without establishing a feeling of trust_ – fragile though that feeling might be.

He wouldn't use the word 'friend.' Not yet. As far as he was concerned, she still hated his guts, and without any true explanation. It seemed quite possible that she envied him; after all, he had everything that she had dreamed about – he had the talent, the potential, the opportunity to use his abilities to reach his life's ambition. It had to hurt even knowing him, watching him make his way toward success when she had had to settle for something less.

_Let go of the fear  
Let go of the time  
Let go of the ones  
Who try to put you down  
You're gonna be fine  
Don't hold it inside  
If you hurt right now  
Then let it all come out_

No. Maybe not friends yet, but he could see it happening. Sooner rather than later, if he had anything to say about it. Alex was intriguing, and it had been a while since someone had challenged him the way she did. She spoke to him like he was … normal. He wasn't sure, yet, if he liked that, but at the same time he thought that maybe it'd be nice for someone of the fairer sex (_Don't let Alex hear that one…_) available for talking when he needed a reality check. He was fairly grounded most of the time, but he was very aware that he let his talents go to his head. Rarely. But it happened.

The end of the song approached, so swiftly that Jesse's wandering mind nearly missed it. Alex turned in his arms and he twirled her out and back in so quickly that her breath was stolen from her lungs. With dramatic flair, Jesse turned them both and with a tiny step back and a push, Alex leapt into his arms. The final note resonated into the split-second silence before one brave student tentatively clapped once, and then the room filled with applause and low murmurs. The partners ignored the whispers, grinning at each other triumphantly.

Professor Leung nodded her approval. "Very excellent work, both of you. I believe the style incorporated ballet as well as lyrical?" the question was rhetorical, and Jesse was reminded of the respect he held for this teacher in particular. "I think we can all agree that your performance earned top marks. Excellent."

Alex released a squeal under her breath as Jesse smirked confidently. Of course they received top marks. Why wouldn't they?

"We should celebrate!" Alex whispered excitedly as they sank down to the floor, back on the sidelines.

He raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Well, you know… for rising to the challenge of a partner task," she clarified, less excited now that his interest was below zero.

"Sounds great," Jesse shrugged, "in theory. But I've got a lot of work to do this weekend, and the guys and I said that we'd all hang out one night. Maybe head off campus for a few hours."

"Oh," Alex said, visibly deflated. "Right. I wouldn't want to derail your plans," her eyes grew hard, masking the flash of rejection Jesse saw before she turned away.

"Alex, I would if I could –"

"Forget it," she hissed. "Just… whatever, hotshot."

* * *

_Breathe_ by Ryan Star.

A/N: Review. Alert if you'd like. Favorite if it's true. All that jazz.


	6. On the Sand

One of Alex's greatest skills was the art of ignoring. Jesse discovered this in application the week following their partner dance; he continually sought to apologize for his less-than-gracious response to her excitement from the previous Friday, but she had a knack for staring over his shoulder as though he wasn't right in front of her, speaking directly to her face. He had cornered her before and after class on Monday, quite intent to be on speaking terms again at the very least. By the end of Wednesday's session, he left without a glance in Alex's direction. He could only take so much of her stubbornness – again, he was Jesse St. James. There hadn't been a reason to (nearly) grovel in the first place, and he was through putting up with her attitude.

On the bright side, the weekend was something to look forward to – a few of the dorm communities had agreed that an expedition to the California shore was in order, and the forecast was looking fantastic. They were headed over to the beach in Santa Monica, only about half an hour away.

By Friday evening, Jesse was almost salivating in anticipation – after all, this would be his very first time at the ocean; training to be a star performer didn't leave much time for pleasure trips to the coastline. Cory had been bouncing off the walls all week, prattling on and on about how much he had missed surfing and informing them that he would be spending a majority of the day trip in the water on a board. Jamal had declined the invitation at first, but had given in with a small smile after the constant pleading and badgering from his roommates. Matt was excited too, in a subdued, quiet sort of way. It would be a nice mini-vacation for all of them.

Early Saturday morning, most of Saxon G was gathered outside with sleepy eyes. Sam and the other two RAs from the building stood before the students authoritatively, bringing the chatter down with a shrill whistle from the one male RA.

"So we're going to Santa Monica for the day," he said briskly. "We'll carpool. Anyone with a vehicle raise their hands."

Jesse kept his arm firmly at his side; it had been decided the night before that he would be driving Cory, Jamal and Matt – that was obvious – and Sam. She had teased that it was because their room was the most trouble, but Jesse suspected other motives on her behalf. He didn't mind, though, as long as he had room in his Range Rover.

"Anyone who does not have a ride," one-male-RA continued, "go find someone with their hand raised. Here's a sheet," he nodded to Sam, who began distributing the pages, "with directions and each of our numbers." Jesse glanced down at the paper, noting Sam's number above 'Kelly' and 'Adam.' "We'll meet up at the beach and go from there." Adam flashed a smile. "See you on the sand."

* * *

"Jesse, I am – in a word – envious of your car."

Jesse met Matt's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Can you even drive?" he asked the younger passenger, being sure to add a teasing inflection to his query.

Sam reached over and punched him lightly in the arm. "Jesse St. James, what an awful thing to say!"

Cory chuckled, leaning against the window and watching the scenery fly past.

"Of course I can drive," Matt protested, but the smile hinted that he didn't take Jesse's jibes seriously anymore. They'd been living together nearly a month, after all. "California license with my happy smiling face and everything."

"Congratulations," Jesse smirked; he dodged another playful punch from Sam and shot her a look. "Woman! I'm driving."

She laughed freely and crossed her arms. "Oh, very well. I don't suppose it would do us any good to hit a pole on the way."

Jesse mock-groaned and waved a hand. "Someone distract her, please."

"You are from California, yes?" Jamal inquired, glancing away from the window and looking to the passenger seat with dark eyes.

Sam nodded. "Just outside of San Diego. Well, that's not entirely accurate. We lived in Washington – the state – until I was six. That's when my mom got sick of the rain," she said with a grin. "So we moved down there. I don't regret it in the slightest – there's sun, there's surf, there's entertainment galore. Gotta love California."

"Why choose UCLA, then? Why not University of San Diego or San Diego State?" Matt wondered, leaning forward between the two front seats.

"I didn't want to be too close to home," she explained, twisting slightly to converse with the boys in the backseat. "Los Angeles is still a big city, which I love, and in California, but I still have independence from my family. I'm fairly certain that it would suck to have mom and stepdad dropping in unannounced every weekend."

At the thought, they grimaced in unison.

"Just you and your parents?"

"And an older brother," Sam corrected Matt. "He's married already and living in Texas, where she's from. He works at some computer company doing something technology-related. Being the last one to college, my parents are finding themselves with way too much free time on their hands. Thus the reason I wished to live away from San Diego."

"Understandable," Jamal nodded.

"Hey Sam," Jesse interrupted with a light tap on her shoulder, "how much further do we have?"

Sam glanced toward the road, taking in the signs. "It should be the next exit, actually."

Cory inhaled deeply. "I can smell the ocean."

"Already?" Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll know what I mean once we get there," he explained with a careless wave. "Once you've gotten used to it, you'll always remember the mix of salt and water… suntan lotion… sunscreen…"

"There it is!" Matt said excitedly, leaning forward and pointing out the window. "That's the exit!"

"Yes, yes, I see it," Jesse muttered as he navigated through the lanes. "Jeez, kid. Simmer down."

The sky was a clear blue when they pulled into the parking lot next to Santa Monica's main beach, with a few puffy clouds dotting the canvas here and there for scattered coverage. Jesse saw one the students rush immediately to the top of a sand dune, sketchbook and pencils in tow; beside him, Cory sighed something about a perfect beach day. Even Sam took to the mini-vacation, kicking off her sandals and digging her toes into the warm sand with a smile.

Matt elbowed Jesse in the side suddenly and he glanced over, scowling.

"What's your problem?"

"Isn't that that Alex girl?" Matt asked, nodding toward the volleyball courts.

As one, the roommates plus Sam turned to follow Matt's meaningful gaze. Sure enough, the fiery ex-dancer was walking in their direction, chatting animatedly with two other girls – one of whom Jesse recognized as the redhead in his Intro to Design class who shamelessly flirted with him from across the room every class, and the other a dark brunette. Cory let out a low whistle of appreciation as he watched Alex move closer, and though Jesse would never allow such appreciation to show, he grudgingly had to agree. She wore loose, torn-up jeans over bare feet and a red bikini top, effectively leaving males panting over her toned stomach. It surprised Jesse to see a small tattoo on her hip when she partially turned to speak to Redhead; he wondered if she had gotten it following the accident.

The brunette whispered conspiratorially to Alex; she whipped her head around toward the group of staring teens with a smirk. She said something in reply to the girl and jerked her head toward the group. A few heartbeats later, the three girls were standing across from the boys (plus Sam) with similar grins.

"You must be Alexandrite," Sam said, stepping forward with a smile that was a fake as her tone. "I've heard so much about you. I'm Sam. I watch over these guys," she indicated the four roommates, "on their floor in the dorm."

"It's Alex, actually," Alex grabbed the blonde's outstretched hand firmly. "I can't say that I've heard all that much about you – Samantha, was it?"

Jesse quickly stepped between the girls, sensing a metaphorical bloodbath about to begin. "Alex, hey," he said cheerfully. "Fancy meeting you here."

She shrugged. "The girls and I thought it would be a nice day for the beach. Santa Monica's pretty popular, but Sharon recommended it."

The redhead wiggled her fingers, eyeing Jesse with particular interest. "This is my city. I had to show it off, hm?"

"Sure, sounds reasonable," Cory nodded, gaze sweeping over the brunette. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Tiffany," Alex tugged the girl to her side, flashing a rarely-seen smile of the genuine variety. "Tiffany is studying abroad from England."

"Alex and Sharon are showing me the California coast," the petite girl said in her strong accent. "I've seen the Atlantic, of course, but here with the sun… this is a bloody brilliant state." She grinned, a hand resting on her slender hip.

"That's the general consensus," Jesse smirked. He pointed to his companions in turn as he introduced them. "Jamal, Matt," the boy glanced up from the sand with a shy smile and quickly looked back down, "and Cory."

"Such a pleasure to meet you," Cory stepped forward, placing a gentle kiss on the back of Tiffany's hand. The girl giggled and blushed.

"Real smooth, Casanova," Jesse laughed, giving Cory a playful shove.

"So you didn't come with the UCLA group?" Sam asked, tilting her head curiously.

Alex shook her head. "Just a girls' day. I didn't even know there was a UCLA group."

"Strange how the world is full of coincidences," said Jamal, speaking for the first time since they arrived.

"That's one way to put it," someone muttered under their breath – too softly for Jesse to clearly identify, but he was fairly certain that the jibe came from Sam. He frowned slightly; she didn't appear to be the malicious type.

"Well…" Jesse spoke up – Cory was too busy sending glances at Tiffany to enter in his usual ice-breaking role – "it was nice to see you, Alex, and meet you two," he nodded to Sharon (still smiling flirtatiously in his direction) and Tiffany. "Maybe we'll see you –"

"Ah, actually, Jesse," Cory interrupted, "I was thinking about hanging with the girls … as long as they don't have any objections."

Alex smirked openly. "Not at all… Tiffany?"

Another giggle was enough of a reply and Alex laughed to herself, knowing that they would sneak away as soon as possible. She couldn't deny them – there was real chemistry there.

"I might actually steal Jesse away for a while too," Sam grinned, eyes resting squarely on Alex; thus she missed the daggers that Sharon shot her way.

Alex shrugged. "Sure, Samantha, no problem."

_No problem?_ Jesse mouthed. Did occur to anyone that he wasn't an object to be stolen away?

"Great," Cory said. "Maybe we can meet up later for dinner."

Apparently not.

* * *

"Sorry about that."

Jesse raised his eyebrow skeptically, reclining against the sand dune.

Sam shrugged. "I was afraid for you, to be perfectly honest."

"Afraid for me."

"Did you _see_ that Sharon girl?" she exclaimed with wide eyes. "If I had left you alone, we might never have seen you alive again!"

Jesse rolled his eyes. "That's such an exaggeration, and you know it, Miss Sam."

Sam scowled. "That's another thing. What's with your friend? Can't she get a name right?"

"I think," he said quietly, "that she's waiting for the same courtesy from you."

She had the grace to look abashed and stared out over the water, watching some small children frolic in the shallow water. "Okay, fair enough. Alex it is."

"She's not so bad, once you get to know her."

"Presuming, of course, that I want to get to know her at all."

"There is that."

Another scowl crossed her face. "I just don't think she's the greatest influence."

Jesse shot her a soft glare. "It's not really for you to decide that though, is it?"

"Damn, St. James," Sam laughed, "you sure know how to put a girl in her place."

"We aren't even that close, Sam."

She sobered quickly. "I realize that, Jesse." A slight shift in weight brought her a bit closer to Jesse, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the young performer. "Would it be so awful for us to become a little closer?"

He turned his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were coming on to me. But that can't possibly be true, because I'm sure there's a rule written somewhere about RAs and their charges and lines that should not be crossed."

"Are you always so dramatic?" Sam rolled her eyes.

"Do you always avoid the subject?" he demanded.

Sam tugged on her ponytail, gazing up at the clouds. "You might be surprised to know that nowhere in any of the rulebooks or guidelines does it explicitly forbid UCLA resident assistants from dating students under their care."

"Really."

"Something about equal opportunity, I think. Everyone's trying to avoid a lawsuit these days."

"It's not that I'm not interested, Sam – and lose the smirk," Jesse said, spotting the knowing grin on the other's face, not stopping a smirk of his own, "but I worked hard to get into this school, and I have big plans for my life. I'm not getting kicked out just because of you."

Sam nodded. "I respect that. The performing arts program here is competitive, I know – hate to think of what it's like at the auditions."

Jesse grimaced.

"Yeah," she grinned, "that's what I thought. Trust me, Jess, I wouldn't want to be kicked out either. But you don't have anything to worry about."

"Well in that case," he smirked, taking this newfound fact into stride, "I think it's only fair that we learn more about each other."

"Very fair," Sam agreed, matching his smirk with one of her own.

"So Sam," Jesse leaned forward, adopting an announcer-type voice, "tell us. Do you often go around hitting on young performers on their way to a Broadway stage?"

She laughed uncontrollably, falling back and rolling around in the sand as she clutched at her sides. Jesse looked on, somewhat bemused.

"It wasn't _that_ funny."

Sam gasped for air, giggling happily. "No, Mr. St. James, I do not often hit on young performers."

"Good to know," Jesse said dryly, but he smiled in spite of himself.

"Just you," Sam added cheekily.

* * *

It was early evening when Jesse and Sam caught up to anyone else from their little circle; they came across Alex and Matt deep in conversation at a picnic table near the parking lot.

"Hey, guys," Jesse said, sitting down next to Matt. "What are you two talking about so seriously?"

"Newtonian physics," Matt grinned, all traces of shyness gone.

"You're kidding me."

Alex laughed. "Nope. It's actually a very engaging topic, if you'd like to join us."

"Thanks," Jesse rolled his eyes, "but I'll pass. Where'd the other guys disappear to?"

Matt ran a hand through his hair. "Um, Cory and Tiffany took off a while ago…"

"There they are," Sam cut in, spotting the couple strolling back toward the cars. They were holding hands and laughing softly together, heads almost touching.

"Aw, how cute," Alex smiled. Jesse glanced over at her in surprise; her voice contained no traces of sarcasm that he detected – on the contrary, she sounded almost wistful as she watched the pair walk closer.

"Jamal's sitting on the hood of your car, reading a very complex-looking philosophy novel of sorts," Matt said, nodding to the boy in question.

Cory and Tiffany rejoined the group at this point, whispering softly to each other. It was obvious that Cory adored the foreign girl, and she had taken a liking to him as well. He wrapped his arms around Tiffany was they integrated themselves into the conversation.

"Taking roll?" Cory asked.

"Yeah," Alex replied with a slight frown. "We're just missing Sharon."

"Oh," Tiffany spoke up, "she caught a ride home with some of the other UCLA students that came out today."

"Well that works out perfectly," Jesse said, eyes unfocused in concentration.

"Perfectly for what?" Matt said.

Sam glanced over at Jesse before answering. "We were thinking of heading over to one of the restaurants here in Santa Monica… and hoping that Alex would maybe give rides back to campus?"

Alex's eyes narrowed slightly, but she caught Jesse's somewhat pleading look over blondie Samantha's shoulder and inwardly rolled her eyes. It was something about Jesse lowering himself from the self-proclaimed pedestal that always made her cave. She also took note of the other girl's use of her preferred name. Fine, fine. If Sam could make an effort, so could she.

She let a smile drift onto her face. "Sure, no problem. Since Sharon's gone, we'll be able to keep it legal. Hopefully the boys don't mind the backseat."

"Matt can have my seat up front," Tiffany offered with a blush.

"How thoughtful," Alex smirked.

"Then that's settled!" Sam said perkily (Alex mentally grimaced – perkiness, ugh. That girl was a cheerleader, to be sure). "I will see you boys at home," she flashed a smile to Cory and Matt. "Thanks so much, Alex. We appreciate it."

"No problem."

Upon seeing Alex's car, Matt immediately burst, "A _Mustang_?"

She laughed. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Gorgeous," he groaned. "Does everyone own a fancy car except for me?"

"Doubtful," Cory snorted.

"Looks like we're getting out of here just in time," Tiffany noted, watching the dark thunderclouds gather out over the water. A low, distant roll reached their ears just as a far-off flash split the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye, Alex also glimpsed Sam reaching on tiptoes to give Jesse a lingering kiss on his cheek. She could see the triumph in his eyes and forced her gaze away, adding an extra note of cheeriness to her voice when she spoke.

"Climb in, gang. Let's get this radio going, shall we?"

_I feel like I'm drowning in ice water_  
_My lips have turned a shade of blue_  
_I'm frozen with this fear_  
_That you may disappear_  
_Before I've given you the truth_

Alex jabbed the buttons on the dashboard, quickly switching to a different station.

"Stupid radio," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

_Bleed_ by Hot Chelle Rae.

There's that creative license again!

Moving right along – please **review**, it just makes my day to see those notifications pop up!


	7. Breathing Exercises

"Well well well."

Jesse looked over his shoulder, scowling. His hands were on the doorknob, doing his best to sneak into _his own dorm room_ at four in the morning. He had thought that everyone would have been asleep, so he had chosen the silent approach – not that he had anything to hide or be ashamed of. He felt more than slightly infuriated to see that his roommates thought he might have needed a babysitter. That was the only explanation he could think of as to why Alex damn Sheppard was sitting in his living room at such an absurd time of night – morning? Thus the ever-deepening scowl.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered harshly, the door latching with a soft _snick_.

Her face was hidden in shadows from where she lounged in the armchair, but he could hear the amusement in her voice and imagined a matching expression on her face. "The boys invited me up after I brought them home, and you know Tiffany wasn't just going to leave Cory alone either, so here I am."

He felt something very akin to a snarl climbing in his throat. "Damn it, Alex, you know what I mean. What are you doing here, still in my dorm room, at four in the morning?"

Alex's dark form raised and lowered a shoulder in a shrug. "When you weren't in by one, your roommates got worried. I'm more used to late nights, so I offered to let them go to bed until you came home."

_Babysitter_, Jesse's mind supplied angrily. What the hell, he wasn't twelve. Wasn't college supposed to be about independence? Did it really matter whether he made it back at midnight or three or four? He didn't need anyone watching out for him; he could do it well enough on his own, thank you very much. He knew the anger was mostly unfounded, but it was late and he wasn't used to these types of hours either. Alex was an easy target.

He stalked across the room in a few long strides and closed his hand tightly over her wrist, jerking Alex to her feet.

"Um, ow," she hissed, yanking her arm out of his grasp. "No need to be hostile."

The words struck something in his brain, but he didn't much care at the moment. "Congratulations, your duty is fulfilled. As you can see, I'm safe and sound," he sneered the phrase, "so run along now."

Her eyes seemed darker, and it had nothing to do with the dim lighting in the room. "They were concerned. Dinner doesn't usually take six hours, you know. Maybe I wouldn't be here if you'd called someone to let us know you were staying out later. Those California turns are dangerous. What if you'd been in the ocean, huh, hotshot?"

"Get out, Alex," Jesse growled. "Go home."

She crossed her arms defiantly, and he just knew those eyes of hers were searching his face – for what, he didn't know. But he definitely wasn't in any mood to be examined like a bug under a microscope. He whirled and went back to the door, wrenching it open and holding it there pointedly.

Alex sighed. "Would it be so awful to think that people care about you, Jesse St. James? That you have friends who actually give a damn?" She walked toward the open door, with the grace of the dancer she used to be. She didn't fill the silence, and neither did he. Maybe her query was meant to be rhetorical. He just wanted her gone.

Alex glanced up as she passed him and their eyes met, just for a second, but it jolted him a little. If he'd been more alert, he might have tried to decipher the look in her eyes, but he wasn't and he didn't. He did, however, see the smirk when she looked back.

"Did you know that your shirt's on inside out?"

Jesse slammed the door – as much as he could without disturbing the whole floor, anyway.

As sleep overtook him, he wondered if she was right.

_Would it be so awful to think that people care about you?_

_

* * *

_

The room was bright and gray when Jesse woke up, which startled him. The closer winter came, the darker the early mornings appeared. A fleeting glance at his cell phone shocked him even more: it was 10:30 Sunday morning. He sat up violently, barely cracking his head on the ceiling for the twelfth dozen time, and scrambled out of bed.

Jamal walked in then, eyebrow rising when he saw Jesse standing in the middle of the bedroom in pajama bottoms, eyes hyper-alert and hair completely awry.

"Good morning," Jamal said in his deep voice.

"Uh, yeah, hi. Why didn't anyone wake me?" Jesse demanded.

Jamal walked past him to grab a book from his desk. "Alexandrite told us that you did not get back to the dorm until four o'clock this morning. We assumed you would like the extra sleep."

"But I have things to do!" he protested.

"Don't we all?" Jamal shrugged, for the first time that Jesse had seen. It seemed almost awkward on the runner, too informal. "You should have left some indication that you would have liked to be awakened at your normal time. A note, perhaps." He held Jesse's gaze for a heartbeat longer than usual, trying to communicate some message, maybe, but Jesse was bewildered. Jamal left, closing the door behind him, leaving Jesse quite confused.

Jesse emerged from the bedroom ten minutes later, jeans and black t-shirt hastily thrown on, hair still unmanageable. When he showed up in the living room, three faces glanced up from whatever they were doing. Jamal went back to his book, but Cory wore a secret sort of smirk and Matt looked nervous – although that wasn't entirely out of sorts.

He scowled at Cory. "What?" he snapped.

"How's Sam?"

"Fine," Jesse replied tersely.

"More than fine, from what I hear," Cory said with that same maddening smirk. Jesse briefly wondered if that was what he himself looked like all the time, the thought shortly followed by wondering why no one had slapped him yet. He certainly felt like decking Cory at the moment.

Jesse snatched a granola bar from the table. "And I suppose Alex told you that."

Cory shrugged. "Well, that… and Sam stopped by this morning."

Jesse froze, granola bar halfway to his mouth. "She did?"

"Oh yeah. Too bad you were still sleeping."

"You _told_ her that?"

"Why not? The point is, she had this stupid little grin on her face when I mentioned you." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jesse. "I know that look, St. James. Moving a little fast, aren't you?"

Jesse bit off the end of the granola a touch too violently. "We didn't sleep together, if that's what you're implying."

"Damn, and here I was hoping for details."

"Don't hold your breath."

Matt spoke up, eyes wide behind his glasses. "So where did you go? Alex said you kicked her out a little after four."

Jesse's scowl deepened. "Was she back this morning?"

"No, I had asked her to call me this morning," Cory answered calmly. "And she did, and she informed us that you were sneaking in and more than slightly upset."

"What the hell, guys? I didn't need a babysitter!"

"We were concerned," Matt said quietly, avoiding Jesse's glare.

Cory nodded his agreement. "Yeah, Jess. There's this thing; it's called communication. Luckily for us, we have these magnificent little devices called cell phones. They call, they text. I thought you had one."

"Laying the sarcasm on a little thick, aren't we?"

"Yeah, 'cause we never get it from you."

The snarl that Jesse had felt last night rose in his throat. "Look, Sam and I went to dinner, we came back to campus, we hung out in her room. That's it."

"Yeah. 'That's it.' I'm sure."

Jesse chucked the granola bar in the trashcan and rounded on Cory, eyes filled with malice. "Shut up. All right? It's none of your damn business!" He shook his head, breathing heavily. Suddenly, he strode to the door and yanked it open, slamming it behind him and not bothering to deaden the sound this time. The remaining three roommates stared at each other, not quite knowing what had just happened.

* * *

He knocked on the solid door three times, refraining from pounding incessantly like he wanted to do. Jesse took several long, deep breaths. He never let his anger get the best of him, but now it felt like something he couldn't control. It wasn't a good feeling at all, and he wanted it to just go away. He knocked again.

"Coming!"

Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to appear calm and cocky, just like always. It was harder, though, when it felt like his blood ran hot under his skin. Breathe in. Breathe out.

The door opened, revealing Sam in a pair of cutoff shorts and a tank top, hair pulled back into a messy bun. She looked cheerful and was ready with a polite smile to whichever resident required assistance, but the smile broadened to a grin when she saw the performer on her threshold.

"Jesse, hi!" She leaned out, glancing both ways down the hall before reaching up on tiptoe to lay a kiss against his lips. He kissed her back, but it was halfhearted. Sam must have sensed his hesitation, because she pulled back with a frown. "What's wrong?"

"May I come in?" he asked, ignoring her question.

She nodded, stepping back and gesturing with her arm. "Of course."

Jesse nodded his thanks and stepped into her dorm room, looking around. He had been there just last night, but hadn't really taken a look around; Sam was most insistent that she had all of his attention. She had a room all to herself ("One perk of being an RA," she had said) and it was covered in muted shades of white, black, and brown. The room had a cozy feel to it, a level of sophistication that he was sure none of the freshman had reached. The bed was the one bright spot in the earthly tones, contrasting completely with purple sheets and comforter.

He dropped into a seat at the end of the couch, images flashing in his mind of Sam's hands gliding up his skin, tracing each individual rib on his side, his hands holding fistfuls of blonde curly hair as tongues fought and danced…

He closed his eyes and shook his head, feeling the couch shift as Sam sat down beside him. A cool, slender hand touched his arm gently.

"What's wrong?" she said softly. Jesse shook his head again. Breathe in. Breathe out. "Jesse, talk to me. Please."

"I'm just frustrated," he said, breathing deeply; that hot blood rushing through his veins made it hard to control his voice.

"You aren't 'just' anything," Sam said soothingly. "Something is obviously upsetting you, and you came to my door, Jesse. Let me help."

"Alex was waiting for me last night."

Silence met his rushed admission, his breathing the only noticeable sound in the room. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"Waiting for you… in what way?" Sam finally asked.

"She was in my dorm when I got back. My roommates…." He shook his head. "They asked her to stay up until I returned."

"I see."

Jesse opened his eyes at last, turning his head to stare incredulously. "You're sounding awfully calm about this."

Blue eyes met his evenly, not backing down from the simmering anger beginning to show on his face. "What do you want me to say, Jesse? They have a point."

"What point?"

Sam sighed. "It's partially my fault, you see. I was the one who invited you back here, but I didn't think about what Cory and Matt and Jamal would think. I should have had you stop back at your dorm at least, or call."

"I don't need a babysitter, though!"

She tilted her head, confused. "Babysitter? Jesse, your friends were concerned about you, and wanted to make sure you were all right. You're lucky they didn't call the police. Oh yeah," she said, seeing his skeptical glance, "it's happened. Such a fun time, that. But I understand where they're coming from."

Jesse let out a sigh of frustration. "Fine, okay, I get that they were worried. Why Alex, though? Why didn't one of them stay up instead?"

Sam shrugged. "You'd have to ask her."

"Yeah," Jesse stood up suddenly, "I think I will."

Sam reached out with one hand. "Well, Jesse, that wasn't what I really –"

He was out the door before she could finish.

* * *

Jesse had stridden halfway down the hall before he realized that he had no idea where Alex lived, or even the building in which she resided. He stopped, taking more deep breaths. Breathe in. Breathe out. He really had to get his emotions under control before he did something truly reckless. Recklessness was beneath him.

The issue resolved itself, he found, when he rounded a corner and saw Alex walking away from him, presumably toward his dorm room. He hurried to catch up, feet thudding heavily on the carpet. Alex must have heard his approach, because she did a little half-coupe turn in the middle of the hallway to face him.

"Oh, hey, hotshot," she said, smiling apprehensively. "I was just going to see you."

Jesse walked up, not stopping until they were only separated by six inches of space, glaring down. Alex gazed up, craning her neck to actually see his face.

"Have you ever been taught the concept of personal space?" Alex asked lightly.

"What's your problem?"

Alex backed up a step so that she and Jesse wouldn't be breathing the same square foot of air. "I just have one?" she smirked.

Jesse didn't smile. "Why did you wait up for me last night?"

"I told you," she rolled her eyes, "your roommates were worried."

"Yeah, they were concerned, I get it. My question is, why were _you_ there?"

The smirk faded from her face. "Am I not allowed to be concerned about you too?"

"You don't even like me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Who told you that?"

"Oh please," it was Jesse's turn to roll his eyes. "Ever since that first day, you've been determined to make sure my life isn't easy."

The purple flashed in her eyes. "Just because I'm making life more difficult for you, doesn't mean I don't like you, hotshot."

The scowl lessened as confusion leaked onto his face. "I don't understand."

Alex sighed. "I was you, remember? I'm guessing that up until now, you've cruised your way through life on your talent and your looks. But it can disappear fast. It helps having someone in your life to ground you. But it definitely doesn't mean I don't like you."

"You're trying to ground me?"

"It wasn't that long ago when you just sat down at my table and started laying on the smooth talk. Believe me, you need to be grounded." She smiled one of those genuine smiles. "When I was a dancer, I didn't have friends. All of my focus was on getting to the top and I was training all the time, which didn't leave much time for socializing. I'm sure you know what I mean?"

Jesse frowned and nodded. "Yeah, actually… I do."

Alex grinned. "It's not all about the top, hotshot. Make sure you let the people who care into your life. Sam. Cory, Matt, and Jamal. They were concerned because they care. Let them."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Does that include you?"

"Do you want it to include me?" she returned the smirk.

"You ground me, and that means you care. I'd say it already does include you."

"That's not such a bad thing, is it?"

"Not from where I'm standing."

They shared a smile, and Jesse realized that she was right. His blood wasn't running hot anymore, and his emotions were back under control. No more deep breaths. He spotted her wrist, hanging at her side, and winced.

"Was that me?"

"Hm?" she glanced down, following his gaze, and found her wrist. She held it up, throwing the dark purple marks into sharp relief. "Oh. Yeah. Don't worry about that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he paused. "Again."

"Seriously, forget it. But let's not make it a habit, shall we?"

"Definitely not," he said quietly, staring at the floor. Shit. He hadn't thought he'd grabbed her that hard last night. But he'd forget it, like she said. It was easier not to talk about. The silence was slightly uncomfortable as he avoided her gaze and cast his mind about for a topic of senseless conversation.

"Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed, "I forgot to tell you!"

"Tell me what?"

"The first musical's coming up, and auditions are later this week. Would you help me rehearse?"

Alex's eyes widened in surprise. "Uh, isn't that a job better suited for your girlfriend?"

_She's not really my girlfriend yet_, he thought, but kept that reflection to himself. Jesse shrugged. "She'll help too, I think, but you understand the dedication that goes into something like this. I think you'll push me more."

"Well, I can't disagree with that. What's the musical?" she asked.

He told her, and added what song he planned to sing for the audition.

Alex nodded. "Sure. I've got tomorrow afternoon off after dance improv… how about we practice then?"

"Sounds good."

"Right." She glanced down at her watch and gasped. "Damn, I've gotta run!" She threw him an apologetic glance over her shoulder, already sprinting away in the opposite direction. "I'll see you tomorrow, hotshot."

Jesse was grinning broadly as he headed toward the dorm room. _So friends it is_, he thought.

It was just common sense to have a girl like Alex on his side.

* * *

As always, please review! I love hearing from my readers!


	8. Emotionally Charged

"_Everything changes, if I could …turn back the years, if you could learn to forgive me, then I could learn to feel_."

Jesse looked at Alex expectantly, a confident grin already on his face. She sat across the room in an uncomfortable-looking chair that they had borrowed from the band room; arms crossed, she leaned back and eyed him critically.

"Not bad," she remarked flippantly.

"'Not bad?'" Jesse repeated incredulously. He threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. "What was wrong _this_ time?"

Alex tilted her head, regarding him with a thoughtful expression. "Look, there isn't anything wrong with it in terms of technicality. You're hitting all the notes right, following the rhythms correctly… but something's missing." She frowned, tugging at the ends of her hair. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Um, no," he shook his head.

"It's like… hm," she mused. "You sing wonderfully, hotshot, but you aren't any different from any other performer. There's no passion when you sing." She pierced him with a stare. "Talent is nothing if you don't know how to harness it properly."

"You would know, I guess."

"Yes," Alex nodded, "I would know."

Jesse frowned. "So, any advice?"

Her eyes went wide, the purple slivers flashing. "You're kidding me."

"What?"

"Jesse St. James, performer extraordinaire, asking for advice from the dancer fallen from grace?"

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

She laughed, a lighthearted sound in the small enclosed room. "Just let me take in this moment…" Alex smiled, sighing happily.

"I'll leave," Jesse threatened lackadaisically.

She held up her hands with a smirk. "All right, all right. Well, let's see here…" she turned introspective. "What about your Regionals performance?"

It was Jesse's turn to be surprised. "What about it?"

"That was very passion-driven," Alex commented, staring out the window and missing his look of astonishment. "If you could just get that kind of energy back, this song would go straight to 'wow.'"

"Are we talking about the same thing?"

Alex twisted her head to face him, frowning. "Your Regionals performance. Bohemian Rhapsody, right? Although," she rolled her eyes playfully, "it might have been called the _Jesse St. James plus backup_ show for all anyone could tell."

Jesse couldn't keep the shock off his face. "When did you see that?"

"Uh, it's on the internet. Not so hard to search for Vocal Adrenaline, you know, if one has basic computer skills."

"Wait, back up," Jesse shook his head, staring back at Alex's confused face, "You actually bothered to look up my performances?"

She laughed nervously. "I might have. Okay," she replied to the searching look in his eyes, "I wanted to know where all that beat-all confidence came from. And after watching Regionals, I found out. Like I said, you single-handedly won your club that trophy. It's not a compliment," Alex added with a frown as she spotted his smug expression. "Spending all that time in the limelight has definitely messed with your ego."

"In your opinion," Jesse replied with a smirk.

Alex shook her head. "Just because no one will say it to your face doesn't mean that they aren't thinking it in their head. Your arrogance is an overwhelming force, hotshot."

He shrugged. "So you say. Anyway," he rushed on, ignoring her argument-ready appearance, "what do you suggest?"

"Get that passion back," she said bluntly. "How did you manage to throw out such an emotionally charged performance then?"

Jesse hesitated, shifting a bit uneasily. Alex raised her eyebrow; he wouldn't quite meet her gaze. She sat back and crossed her legs, allowing the silence to stretch on uncomfortably. Finally he sighed.

"I was showing off, in a way. We were competing against New Directions – Rachel's glee club," he explained. "I had left her just a short time before…"

"And you needed to add insult to injury, is that it?" Alex remarked scathingly.

He had the good sense to look chastised. "Something like that."

"Big man."

"I never said," Jesse shot back defensively, "that I enjoyed the look on her face when they lost."

"Did you?"

"No, I did not."

"Not even a little?"

He responded with a glare.

"All right, all right," she held up her hands in surrender. "Too personal. Got it. Back to the original statement of fact… how to regain that emotion. Hm," she mused. Alex stood and moved to the window, propping her elbow against the wall and gazing at the outside. "Surely you can draw on personal experience where this song is concerned."

"Why would that be?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "It's a song about forgiveness, in a way. Pained forgiveness, but nonetheless. As a star performer, you've had to climb over everyone and everything to reach the top. You can't possibly say that you have no regrets in all your – what, nineteen years?"

Jesse grinned wryly. "You'd be surprised."

"No regrets, though? None at all?"

The grin faded into a scowl. "Approaching the boundaries line, Sheppard."

Alex inclined her head slightly. "Apologies. I'm only here to help, remember."

"No need to remind me." He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "Right. Emotion. Emotionally charged, was that the phrase you used? Right…"

She looked amused. "It's not that hard, is it?"

"In Vocal Adrenaline, we were more soulless automatons than anything else," he explained distractedly, rolling the lyrics through his mind. "Which, according to you, won't get me very far in the world of performance."

"Too true."

Jesse exhaled. "_I am the mess you chose, the closet you can not close, the devil in you, I suppose, 'Cause the wounds never heal…_"

Alex nodded in appreciation and closed her eyes as he continued to belt out the song. The notes had much more depth and meaning behind them this time around, and it made her smile just a bit to know that Jesse was actually putting some effort into improving his talents. She wasn't sure what experience he was drawing on, but it was working.

"Better?"

She slowly opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with a slight grin. Obviously she wouldn't go into detail about the level of improvement, because that would certainly inflate his ego – something she was trying so desperately to avoid.

"Much."

* * *

_Hey Shelby,_

_Just thought I'd check in, see how you were doing. And Beth, of course. What about Mr. Schue? I still can't wrap my head around that one, to be honest with you. It's good that you have him to help with Beth, though. Do you go to watch Vocal Adrenaline at all? I know Sectionals are coming up, and it'll probably come faster than most of them expect. Without you and me, I'd like to know how they're progressing and what songs they've chosen for this year._

_So, you asked about UCLA at the end of our last call. Not much to tell beyond what you already know, at least in regards to classes and such. I'm not much into Play Reading and Analysis – it's just dialogue! No spontaneous musical numbers at all. But we're covering some plays that aren't as mainstream, and it helps that we won't be doing Shakespeare. I guess by now they're figured that we covered enough of him in high school, or maybe they're just waiting for more advanced classes for that. Either way_

"I just don't see why she has to be the one to be helping you, Jesse."

Jesse looked up from his email, meeting Sam's resentful expression with a sigh. "We've been through this, Sam. Alex has performance experience, and you don't. Simple as that. It's nothing personal, you know, and you've been listening to me loads this week."

She tossed her hair and crossed her arms, glaring around the room sulkily. It was Wednesday night, and Jesse and his roommates (with the addition of Sam and Tiffany, the latter of whom was unsurprisingly wrapped around Cory on the sofa) were hanging out in their dorm room. It was the night before the auditions for the fall musical, which had prompted the young performer to stay in rather than heading to one of the on-campus activities. Sam had stopped by about an hour beforehand and simply never left. He detected the jealousy in her voice when she spoke of Alex, but what he had said was true. Nursing was a great major, but it wouldn't help in the performing arts department.

Matt glanced up from one of his many thick textbooks. "What time is your audition, Jess?"

"Two."

"And you will hear back on Friday afternoon?" Jamal asked, clearly more involved in the passing details than Jesse gave him credit for.

Jesse nodded. "I can't believe it's such a long wait. All the auditions I've had before usually announce the parts within a few hours."

"Yeah," Tiffany joined in the conversation, "but I doubt you've been up against a couple hundred people before. That's a lot more auditions to get through." She leaned her head against Cory's shoulder. "Sharon's auditioning tomorrow afternoon too. Just for the experience, though," she added in her smooth accent. "She says that she isn't expecting a role this year."

Jesse made a noncommittal sound that could have been agreement and turned his gaze back to his laptop. He was expecting a role, or at least strongly hoping for one. It wasn't like he was an amateur. There couldn't be that many more performers at UCLA that were more talented than he was. Jesse hid the secret smile that threatened to creep onto his face.

_Either way I'm thankful that we aren't doing Shakespeare this quarter. And the partner dance that I mentioned went really well, even though Alex – I mentioned her too – and I hit a few bumps along the way. We received full marks for the assignment, and our professor commented on the fluidity and connectedness that we presented during the dance._

_Speaking of Alex, she and I are getting along much better now. I take back what I said about her being sloppy. She knows what she's doing. She's been helping me with my audition piece for the musical, too. I guess you could say we're friends now. The other people here at the university are great. My roommates are good people, and I have genius Matt to help me with the academics. I'm sort of seeing this girl Samantha-prefers-to-be-called-Sam. We aren't official or anything, at least not yet. She's a little possessive, but I think that's just Sam. Idk. And one of my other roommates, Cory, he has a girlfriend. Her name's Tiffany; she's from England. Really nice girl and she's always over at our dorm. She's rooming with Alex, actually, and another girl who's in the performing arts program with me._

_Well, I guess that's all the news I have to report for now. I'll definitely let you know how the audition goes. Be sure to tell me all about Beth! Can't wait to hear from you, Shelby :)_

_Jesse_

He sent off the email with a grin and closed his laptop. Sam took this as her cue to scramble up from the floor and settle in beside him on the cramped armchair, but Jesse slung his arm around her shoulders anyway. It wasn't a bad thing that she wanted to get closer to him. Possessive, as he'd told Shelby, and Sam was just staking a claim on him. He let her have the illusion of control.

"You study too much," Cory said, looking down at Matt on the floor with his textbook. "I thought this was a night of relaxing."

"I've got my first exam of the year on Friday," Matt explained without looking up. "I need to study."

"Who wants to take bets that Matt will ace his exam without any more studying?" grinned Cory, pausing to place a gentle kiss on Tiffany's forehead.

The group chorused back with affirmatives and Jesse saw two tinges of pink appear Matt's face, but he didn't look up from the printed lines.

Sam wiggled closer. "Sing to me."

"Softly," Matt interjected sternly.

Jesse chuckled under his breath and began humming in Sam's ear.

"You'll be great at the auditions, you know," she whispered to him with a smile.

"I know."

* * *

The hallway outside the auditorium was packed. People sat on the floor leaning against the wall or paced frantically, some with headphones over their ears. Others hummed bars under their breath and whispered lyrics to themselves. Only a few lounged lazily, having animated conversations with friends as they sipped water. Most of them had made the effort to project a professional appearance, girls in skirts and boys in slacks; Jesse did spot a few pairs of jeans here and there, however.

"Lookin' good, Jess."

Jesse turned to the approving voice with a raised eyebrow already in place when he met soft green eyes. The redhead grinned broadly at him, running her fingers through her hair.

"Sharon," he nodded coolly. Yes, Tiffany had mentioned last night that the brash Californian would be auditioning as well, but he hadn't expected to actually run into her. He admitted to himself that he almost looked down on her for going into an audition without expecting a role. The experience, Tiffany had said. Jesse didn't need experience. He already had plenty of that. What he needed was stardom.

"Seriously," Sharon said, eyes sparkling, "I don't think I've seen you wear anything except black. Not that this is a step too outside the box, but at least it's a start," she gestured to his shirt, teasing smirk still in place.

Jesse glanced down automatically. The white button-up tucked into his dark jeans, fancy enough to pass for a professional audition; the shirt parted two buttons down, a relaxed but classy sort of style. He didn't much like the white, but figured that showing up in black would hinder his chances more than anything. Theoretically, he'd only be critiqued on his vocal talents, but making a good first impression never hurt.

"When's your audition?"

He looked up. "Two, if we're still running on schedule, that is," he added, glancing about. "There seems to be a line."

"Two?" Sharon glanced down at her watch. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

Jesse shrugged, "Fifteen minutes to spare. I've got plenty of time."

She chuckled. "Some of these people have been waiting for ten minutes already and their auditions aren't for another half hour or so."

"Why so early?" he asked, not bothering to keep the surprise out of his voice. It didn't make sense to show up an hour early when the audition times had clearly been outlined.

Sharon replied with a shrug. "Works off the nerves, I guess."

"Oh, yeah. Nerves. I forgot that some people still got those," Jesse smirked, not bothering to lower his voice and ignoring the consequent onslaught of dirty looks sent in his direction.

"First university audition?"

"Yes, same as you."

She shook her head, hair spilling over her shoulder. "Not my first, actually. A few years ago one of UCLA's productions required some younger performers, so they held open auditions for those in high school but planned on attending college for theatre. I auditioned and I got in. It wasn't much," she added, "just some chorus singing; none of us actually had individual speaking lines or anything. But it was great to be in a production like that so early," Sharon grinned.

Jesse nodded. He'd been to Nationals four times. Productions that elaborate _were_ great, although he'd all but forgotten what it was like to only sing chorus.

They made idle chit-chat to fill the silence, relaxing against the wall while Jesse waited for his name to be called. She asked about his experience in Vocal Adrenaline (apparently it had been a whole-room showing of his Regionals performance) and he politely returned the favor with mundane life questions that he had heard all through move-in week. Sharon didn't seem to mind, though, and managed to slip several flirty responses into the conversation.

"Jesse St. James."

He smirked and pushed off the wall. "That'd be me."

"Good luck, Jesse," Sharon called as he headed down the hall to the widely-set double doors leading onto the stage. He waved a hand over his shoulder, not really looking back.

_Like I need any of that._

Jesse started to draw deep, controlled breaths that filled his body. It was time to focus. When he reached the middle of the stage, he plastered on the endearing, wholesome grin that won over so many and threw it out to the directors and producers; his eyes locked with each of theirs charismatically as he spoke a friendly greeting.

"Right, Jesse St. James, you're a first year musical theatre major, yes?" A nod.

"Let's begin."

* * *

Alex almost threw the phone across the room when it buzzed near her ear – almost. A name showed up black on the brightly lit screen, too bright in the darkness, and she had to squint to decipher the caller. The bold numbers, separated by mocking colon, that showed above the name made her scream into her pillow, but the constant vibration was persistent. She groaned and pressed the phone against her face.

"Cory Henson, you'd better have a damn good reason for waking me up at two on a Saturday morning."

"Alex."

She blinked, sitting up in bed. Cory sounded scared, at least from what she could tell above the raucous pulse-pounding music in the background.

"What's going on?"

"I'm so glad I reached you. I didn't know who else to call and I know you have a car and oh, shit, I really don't know..." Cory babbled on, the relief clearly evident in his voice and undertones of pleading layering his words.

"Cory!" Alex interrupted his tirade harshly. "Slow down. What's happened?"

"You have to get here, Alex. I don't know what to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's Jesse."

* * *

_Everything Changes_, Staind.

A/N: Uh oh.

Yes, I'm back! This story has not been forgotten, not by any means, but laptop issues outside of my control needed fixing before I could continue exploring Jesse's journey – thus the reason I'm two weeks behind. I'm doing my best to play catch up. Hopefully I still have some fans who haven't abandoned this.

Thanks to **ChronoNomad**, **lacesandbows20**, and **egyouppt** for reviewing the last chapter!

Also, check out the Glee season 2 fall preview! Nationals are in NEW YORK! (Whether or not this story stays canon with that… remains to be seen).

Please, please review!


	9. Not A Typical Saturday Morning

Alex breathed a heavy sigh as she pulled up to the curb outside the two-story house that screamed 'college student' and shifted her Mustang to park. She glanced out the window with trepidation in her eyes; parties had never been her scene – first it was her ambition to dance professionally, then the whirlwind that was her sister. She'd seen what drinking did to a person, what it did to their life. No, she'd never set foot inside a party before.

If it hadn't been for the desperation in Cory's voice, she probably wouldn't be here at all.

Alex climbed out of the car and locked it, double-checking the doors. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed again. There wouldn't be any sleeping tonight.

Cory met her halfway up the sidewalk, his eyes far too wide, his mouth twisted into a worried line. He met her with a tight nod and she returned one of her own quickly. They fell into step as he led her back up to the house.

"Thank you so much for coming, Alex. I didn't know who else to call."

"So you've said," she replied. "You didn't tell me much, though. What's really going on, Cory?"

He sighed. "Jesse got a call about the musical audition."

"From your tone, I assume it wasn't good news."

"Not in the slightest. They told Jesse that he had talent, but unfortunately so did other performers. They also encouraged him to audition for the Winter quarter musical, and perhaps join an extracurricular program in the meantime," Cory grimaced as they paused on the porch.

"I doubt he took that information well," Alex shook her head.

"If you call chucking his cell phone clear across the room and storming about campus for two hours well, then oh yeah, he took it great."

"Rejection is a foreign concept to that boy. So," she glanced inside a fogged window, "how did Jesse end up here?" She raised her eyebrow as she turned back, "How did _you_ end up here?"

"Sam came by tonight," Cory said, the slightest edge of disgust on his tone, "She comforted Jesse, of course, like the dutiful almost-girlfriend she's supposed to be. This is her friend's boyfriend's party, apparently. Offered to bring Jesse along." He swallowed. "I said that I wanted to come along as well. I didn't know if Jesse, y'know, drank at all…" he made a face. "That one's been answered, at least."

"He's _drunk_?"

"Smashed," Cory corrected her miserably.

"Damn," Alex breathed.

"Yeah. I was hoping that you could take him back to campus," he said hopefully.

Alex dragged a hand down her face. "What about you?"

"I already took his keys. I'll drive the Range Rover. I didn't drink at all," he assured her, seeing the piercing stare.

"Good for you," she said distractedly. "All right, here's what I'm going to do. Jesse comes home with me. I've been here," Alex sighed at the shock on his face. "I know what's going to happen when all that alcohol comes back up on him. I can handle him much better back at my dorm, and I have a room to myself. He can sleep there for tonight."

Cory nodded. "Okay, Alex. You'll take care of him best."

She gestured to the door. "Help me find him?"

He shrugged and led her inside the house. Immediately inside the threshold, Alex wrinkled her nose. The alcohol was heavy on the air, coupled with cigarette and quite possibly – was that weed? Bodies were pressed into corners, and she quickly looked away. If she had ever questioned what she was missing out on, the reservations were gone. No parties.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex spotted a head of curly blonde hair that could only belong to one person; sure enough, Sam was curled around some tall jock type, her tongue halfway down his throat. Alex frowned but kept her focus on finding Jesse. Sam's personal life was an issue to be brought up at another time. Some drunken lumbering body pressed against her, but she managed to shake him off. She wouldn't throw punches tonight if she could help it.

"There he is," Cory shouted over the noise, nodding to a corner.

Alex followed his gaze and saw Jesse as the (luckily) sole inhabitant of said corner, a glass of something dark in his hand. His eyes were completely unfocused as he watched the crowd and didn't even seem to see Cory and Alex until they stepped directly into his line of sight. He shot Alex a lopsided grin.

"Hiya, Alesh. Come to join the party?"

Damn, he was really trashed. His words slurred so badly she could barely understand him and now that she was closer the shake of his hands was much more noticeable. She sighed and shook her head.

"No, hotshot, I'm here to take you home."

Jesse frowned. "Home where?"

"UCLA. Your college? Come on, give that here," she plucked the tumbler from his grip easily and handed it off to Cory. "Get rid of that for me, would you?" Alex asked. Cory nodded.

"See you back at campus."

Her attention was already back on Jesse. "Now you. Come on, let's go."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Don't wanna. U-she-LA doesn't want me anyway."

"Jesse St. James, I will drag you out of this house if I have to," she threatened, her eyes narrowing. "Don't think I won't."

"You can't do that."

"Watch me."

Alex seized his wrist and tugged sharply; Jesse stumbled forward and went to his knees, catching himself on his hands before his face hit the floor. He looked up, seemingly puzzled.

"That wasn't very nice."

"Oh God," Alex groaned. She grabbed his wrist again and hauled him up off the floor, swinging his arm over her shoulders and supporting most of his weight as he staggered upright. "If you remember any of this tomorrow, you owe me big," she hissed under her breath as she half-dragged him through the crowd.

"Alesh, I don't want to go," Jesse whined as she pulled him along, but he wasn't lucid enough to shake off her hold.

"Yet I'm taking you out of here anyway. Funny, that," she replied through gritted teeth. What did this kid eat? Someone with his body structure shouldn't weigh so much. They purposely avoided the corner where Alex had seen Sam's little make-out session; it was proving difficult enough to drag Jesse away without having to stop for a fight.

Alex breathed deeply as soon as they stepped outside, filling her lungs with clean oxygen. Jesse, on the other hand, choked on the air and stumbled toward the railing, throwing his head over the side and emptying his stomach of the latest drink. Alex wrinkled her nose. He lifted his head weakly and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

"You should never drink again," Alex muttered under her breath as she took his weight again and headed toward the car.

She shoved him into the passenger seat and buckled him in. _Like a child_, she thought. Alex turned his head to meet her eyes. "Look here, hotshot," she said sternly. "If you throw up in my car, I will leave you on the side of the road. I swear it. Do you understand?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face, making his eyes refocus slightly. "You let me know if you need to stop, but you do not throw up on this interior. Got it?"

She took his half-assed nod as a 'yes.'

Alex climbed into the driver's side and fired up the engine, immediately rolled down the windows. Jesse reeked of cheap alcohol and it made her own stomach turn. The air would do them both good.

Luckily, they did not need to stop on the way back to campus and made it to Alex's dorm without serious incident, though she lost her grip on Jesse once and sent him sprawling to the ground. He was hazy enough that he didn't notice the cut on his arm.

She lowered him to the floor outside the dorm room (which was fortunately located on the first level) while she fished out her key. His head lolled back against the wall and his eyes stared ahead glassily. Drunk wasn't a good look for him. He half-crawled into the dorm when she instructed him to and she pulled him the rest of the way with a much-exaggerated eye roll that was lost on his semi-conscious self.

A groan escaped Alex when she saw the digital display on the Blu-ray player – 3:42. Not how she planned on spending her Saturday morning.

"Come on, you," she pushed Jesse in the direction of the bathroom, flipping on a few lights along the way and blinking in the sudden brightness. The bathroom light was even harsher, but her eyes adjusted quickly. She twisted the shower knob and water sprayed out. Alex turned to Jesse, sagged against the wall and wearing one of those stupid drunk-grins again.

"Shower for us?" he said with mischievous eyes.

"You," Alex corrected harshly. She waited until steam poured out before cranking the temperature down.

Jesse chuckled. "Care to join me?" he leered.

Alex rolled her eyes. "How about not."

She grabbed him suddenly and pushed him under the water, clothes and all. He sputtered and slid down the wall, huddled on the floor. Alex readjusted the spray so it hit his face.

"What the hell?"

"Stay here," she demanded. "I'm going to try to find something for you to sleep in."

"No shirt required," he said, slur lessening.

"Oh yes shirt required," she retorted as she shut the bathroom door.

She let her head fall back against the wall and let out a soft groan. Why did it have to be her? With a sigh, she went to her bedroom and started rummaging through her dresser. She had a few oversized t-shirts; he could wear one of those… and where did she put – there. One pair of men's sweatpants. Why she still had them, Alex didn't kn – okay, lie. She knew why she still had them. Same story with the boxers she dug out from a box in the wardrobe. No time to think about it, though … she had Jesse to worry about.

Adding a spare towel to the pile in her arms, Alex returned to the bathroom and peeked in the shower. Yes, he was still there, looking half-drowned and shivering under the cooler spray. He raised his head and she was satisfied to see that his gaze was much more lucid now.

"This isn't v-v-very nishe," he said with a slight slur.

"You'll thank me in the morning," Alex returned wryly. "Can you stand? Wait, stop," she held out her hands as he braced himself against the wall. "Stupid question. You probably won't want your head bashed in," she muttered as she turned off the spigot. She carefully stepped into the shower and extended her hands down. "Come on, up you go." Jesse grasped her hands more firmly than she would have expected and she hauled him to his feet; he lost his balance and pitched forward, forcing Alex to catch him in her arms.

He gazed up at her from her compulsory embrace. "I like this," he grinned.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," she growled as she steadied him on his feet, ignoring her own wet clothes for the moment. She threw the towel over his shoulders and pointed to the pile of clothes. "If I leave, are you able to change by yourself?"

"I'd rather have help."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Back in her bedroom, she changed her shirt quickly; wet clothes weren't very comfortable for her. She dawdled for a minute or two, giving Jesse plenty of time to dress himself. No way could she take seeing a naked St. James after all that had already happened.

The bathroom door creaked open. "Alesh?" he called softly.

He had managed to get the boxers and pants on, but apparently four holes were confusing because the t-shirt hung limply from his hand. Alex kept her gaze pointedly on his face.

"Yes, hotshot?"

"Help me out?"

Alex took the shirt from his hand and together they tugged it over his head; she guided his arms into the sleeves and thought again how much he acted like a child while he was drunk. A very horny, sexually aggressive child, but that was splitting hairs. Her eyes followed the hem of the shirt down the flat plane of his stomach of their own accord but lifted quickly back to his face.

He had seen her look, though, and grinned widely. "Like what you –"

His face paled suddenly and his eyes went wide; he spun and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and emptied his remaining stomach contents. Alex rushed to his side and held the damp hair back from his face as he heaved. "Oh, Jesse," she sighed. "You idiot."

She helped him rinse his mouth and guided him into her bedroom. She pointed to the computer chair.

"Sit. I want to clean that cut."

"What cut?"

"The one on your arm. The one you got when you fell."

"Oh." Jesse plopped down and followed her movements as she pulled out the first-aid kit that she had stashed in the desk. He hissed when she ran a cloth over his skin.

"Sorry," she said distractedly, concentrating on his arm.

"You're really pretty, you know that?"

"Which is total bullshit," Alex replied calmly, pulling out a large bandage. "You are still seeing the world through lovely alcohol-colored eyes, and there's no way for me to look pretty at after four in the morning."

"I disagree."

"Of course you do," she sighed as she pressed the bandage over the cut. She stood and pointed to the bed.

"Go. Sleep."

"Join me?"

"No. You'll feel better, trust me. Just sleep, all right?"

"If you say so."

"And I do."

Jesse crawled into the bed, resting his head on the pillow. He inhaled and looked over at Alex, who had moved her computer chair into the middle of the room and sat down. She looked back expectantly.

"This smells like you."

"Yes, it is my pillow."

"It smells good."

"Thank you?"

Jesse smiled, the edge of inebriation lessened. "Know what, Alex?"

"No, hotshot, you could say just about anything right now. How about you tell me?"

"You're a really good friend."

Alex raised her eyebrow in surprise. Yeah, the brain-mouth connection was less inhibited, but this was Jesse St. James. He would never admit anything like that sober, although it was nice to know that he had accepted the concept of friends (also not something he would admit alcohol-free).

"I mean it," he continued. "I don't like you most of the time because you represent what I could be some day… if I didn't have my vocal talents. But really, you're probably the best friend I have. The only best friend I've had," he looked shockingly thoughtful for someone who would be living with a killer hangover in a few hours.

Alex bit her lip. "Thanks, Jesse," she said gently, smiling at him. "You really should try to sleep, though."

"Okay, Alex." He closed his eyes and snuggled – though 'snuggled' should never be a word applied to males in general – down into the pillow that apparently smelled like her. Alex turned off the light and watched him through the shadows, quickly adapting to the dimness of the room. "Tell me a story," Jesse said suddenly, not opening his eyes; Alex jumped.

"What type of story?"

"Just talk." The silence stretched for a heartbeat. "Please?"

_He's just full of surprises_. "We first met on September 26. You were probably one of the most arrogant people I've ever met in my life, and I've met some arrogant people. You sat down right across from me where I was _trying_ to study for my astronomy class…"

She was telling their story long after Jesse fell asleep.

* * *

The gentle aroma of fresh coffee slowly brought Jesse out of unconsciousness in the morning. He had time to briefly think that no one in his room drank coffee before the headache slammed into him with tremendous force. He actually groaned aloud and brought his hand up, holding his head. That's when it occurred to him that he was wearing a t-shirt, and he most definitely did not wear shirts to bed.

What. The. Hell.

He forced his eyes open slowly, as if afraid of what he might see. The ceiling was far above his face and the room was dark, shades down even as the sun tried to beat its way through. He shifted slightly, another groan drawn from his throat as that small movement pounded in his temples. This was not his bed. The sheets were black and gray and purple, matching the pillow (which smelled vaguely familiar). Looking right, he saw the glass of water and several brightly colored pills on the sidetable.

Jesse opened the bedroom door cautiously, rightly so. He nearly gasped when the mid-morning light assaulted him and held a hand up, groaning slightly. It hurt to move, even. What had happened last night?

"Sharon! What did I tell you! Close those blinds!"

He winced, though the girl had obviously been making an effort to be quieter than usual. The light dimmed a few seconds later and Jesse was able to look around the room. The dorm room looked similar to his own, though with definite feminine undertones. Smaller television, more pictures and colors. Sharon waved from near the window, red hair pulled back into a ponytail, and Tiffany smiled at him from the sofa.

"Oh, you're up."

His glance right revealed Alex setting a place at their table: a plate of apples drizzled in honey, a mug of steaming coffee, and another glass of water. She glanced at him with a sympathetic smirk.

"Did you take the painkillers?" she asked, motioning him to sit.

"Uh, yeah," he said slowly, lowering himself into the chair. "What's all this?"

"Hangover food," she replied shortly. "Drink the water first. You're probably dehydrated. Not too much coffee, but eat all those apple slices," she instructed as she moved about the small area designated for kitchen use.

"Wait, stop. Go back," he held up his hands. "Why am I here? What the hell happened?"

Alex sighed and pulled out a chair across from him. "I presume you remember the call you got yesterday."

His face darkened. "I didn't get a part."

"No, you didn't," she agreed. "And you went to a party –"

"With Sam," Jesse supplied. He frowned. "There isn't much after that."

"No, because you drank yourself silly," Alex chided. "Cory called me at two this morning, which you both owe me for – big time. So I went to get you and brought you back here."

Jesse was still frowning, thinking hard. "You put me in the shower."

"Yup. Not pleasant, is it?"

"It was cold."

Alex nodded and sighed. "Hotshot, look at me." She waited until his gaze locked on hers. "Listen. Not getting a part for your first university production is not the end of the world. Yes, it sucks," she agreed, seeing the thunderous expression on his face, "but it's not a career-killer. You getting smashed after every rejection and screwing up your vocal cords, that might be. Drinking won't solve your problems. You'll wake up in the bedroom of a girl you barely know."

A shadow of a smirk crossed his face. "We know each other pretty well, I think."

"What about next time?" The smile disappeared. "Yeah, think about that."

He scowled and looked down at the table, which brought his thoughts back to another issue he had. "What am I wearing?"

Alex actually blushed. "I threw you in the shower with your clothes on. You needed something to sleep in. I'll want them back, by the way," she added sternly. "Your clothes are washed and dried on the dresser."

"You don't think I could –"

"Absolutely not."

Alex sent him on his way nearly an hour later, assuring him that the walk back to Saxon Suite G would help. She pushed him out the door over his protests and closed it behind him, leaning her head against the doorframe with a sigh. She spotted the grins of her roommates when she turned around and glared.

"What?"

"We were just wondering…" Tiffany giggled.

"What does it feel like to know that you've had Jesse St. James in your bed?" Sharon finished with a smirk, ducking as an apple slice went flying at her head.

"I'm washing those sheets immediately."

* * *

A/N: Oh, so much fun to write!

Huge thanks to ChronoNomad, egyouppt, and lacesandbows20 for reviewing, and an even bigger thank you to first-time reviewer Cory Anne Stickel! Very much appreciated! Now, the rest of you 123 readers… hint hint hint. Review!


	10. Halloween Notsomuch Fun

It was Tuesday before Alex got the visit that she had been expecting since the weekend. She looked up from the circle of textbooks and spiral notebooks when the first series of heavy pounding came, closely followed by muffled shouting. Alex sighed. Sharon and Tiffany emerged from the bedroom and glanced weirdly at the door.

"What's going on?" Tiffany asked. "I believe that's your name I hear."

"I believe you're right," Alex rolled her eyes as she stood. "Remember that visitor I said we'd probably have sometime this week?"

"Oh," Sharon made a hum of understanding. "Well, best get good seats." She dragged Tiffany over to the couch and flung herself onto the cushions, smirking. "I love a good girl fight."

Alex scowled playfully before schooling her expression into boredom; she calmly opened the door to meet the livid girl on the other side.

"Hello, Sam. Fancy seeing you here."

"Don't get cute with me," the blonde hissed, her eyes flashing furiously. "I know what you're doing."

Alex casually glanced over her shoulder at the messy table. "Studying?" She turned back to meet the rage in Sam's glare. "I thought that's what college is all about."

"Don't be smart."

Alex shrugged. "Okay, Sam, you lost me. Why exactly are you here?"

Sam's eyes narrowed into mean little slits. "I heard that Jesse left last weekend's party with _you_." She emphasized 'you' the way people talk about gum on the bottom of their shoe.

"Ah, yes," Alex nodded, "you heard that correctly."

"He's _my_ boyfriend," the other girl fairly snarled.

"_Almost_ boyfriend," corrected Alex. "You'd have a difficult time convincing me of that."

Sam's face scrunched up unattractively. "What's that supposed to mean?" she spat.

Alex turned her expression thoughtful. "You don't happen to have a football-playing ex, do you, Sam?"

She paled slightly, but her eyes hardened. "That's nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing on Saturday," Alex's tone slipped, an edge of malice creeping into the words.

"You," Sam growled, "don't know anything."

Alex shook her head. "I know that Cory called me that night. I know that Jesse was trashed and completely out of it. I know that I brought Jesse back here to sober him up," she listed off matter-of-factly.

"Lies," was the hiss.

"No more, no less. Ask Cory. Ask Jesse. Ask either of my roommates," Alex gestured backward into the room. "Jesse left in the morning."

"Alex, stay away from him. He deserves better than you."

Her face betrayed her surprise. "Excuse me, what? I am so definitely not interested in Jesse. Not the way you are. I'm just so very worried about his well-being," Alex simpered. "What if you invite him to another party? Someone has to take care of him."

"I can take care of him," Sam said defiantly.

She shook her head. "To be perfectly honest… I don't trust you to do that, Sam."

"Just stay away from him."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Sure, Sam. Whatever you say."

The venom disappeared from Sam's face and a deceptively cheerful expression took its place. "Good. Just so we understand each other." She waved as she abruptly turned to leave.

Alex stared after the blonde. "Bye, Sam."

She shut the door gently and leaned her forehead against the wood, letting out a sigh. "Talk about emotional whiplash," she muttered under her breath. She straightened and turned around, catching the gazes of her roommates. "What?" Alex asked.

"Please, please tell me that you just agreed with her to make her go away," Tiffany said, her eyes wide.

"Yup."

Sharon smirked. "That's my girl." A teasing glint entered her eye. "I knew you wouldn't give up on Jesse so easily."

Alex shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I wish you'd stop trying to create something between us when there obviously isn't anything. Besides, he called me his best friend. I can't let him down like that…" she hesitated, "even if he doesn't exactly know that he said it."

"So dynamically complex," Tiffany agreed.

"Will you help him out again this weekend… if he gets in trouble?" Sharon wondered aloud.

Alex frowned. "What's so special about this weekend?"

"Halloween!" Tiffany chimed in enthusiastically. "Didn't you get the invite?"

"Uh," Alex raised an eyebrow. "Apparently not."

"Thursday," Sharon explained with a knowing shake of her head, "UCLA's having its own Halloween party over at Powell Library, in the rotunda. And," she fixed Alex with a stern gaze, "you _are_ going with us."

Alex crossed her arms. "I'm busy."

"Are you really?"

She shrugged.

"Please?" Tiffany begged. "It'll be so much fun! And there's going to be lots of candy!"

Alex laughed aloud. "That's your reasoning? Candy?"

"Hey, sounds good to me," Sharon chuckled, throwing her arm around the British girl and giving her a friendly hug. "The girl has a point."

"Fine," Alex threw up her hands, but the smile betrayed her. "I'll go, I'll go."

"Yay!" Tiffany squealed excitedly. "Now, the biggest question of all…"

"That would be?"

"What are we going to wear?"

* * *

"Remind me again…" Jesse muttered as he walked into the living room, "How'd I let you guys talk me into this?"

"It's a party, Jess," Cory grinned. "It'll be fun."

Jesse sighed. "Do you know when the last time was I actually dressed up for Halloween?"

Cory laughed. "So you're okay with wearing a salmon-pink dress shirt and suspenders, but not celebrating Halloween in costume?"

"You watched the Regionals performance too?"

"Alex sent out a link."

"I swear I will throttle that girl."

"Aw, Jess, relax. Besides, you look fine. All…" Cory glanced at his friend, considering, "dangerous-like."

"Black tends to do that," Jesse remarked with a smirk.

"Zorro, right?"

Jesse shrugged. "Close enough." No, he wasn't Zorro, but that seemed much more masculine than what his actual choice of costume represented. It hadn't taken too much to throw it together – he already owned all the black he needed. Black pants, loose black long-sleeved shirt… the boots he'd had to borrow from the theatre department, along with the headgear and mask.

Cory had conferred with Tiffany and they had gotten their hands on some Egyptian costumes – a pharaoh king and his queen. Cory wore black as well, with gold stitching embroidered on the Egyptian garb and brown sandals. Jesse doubted that pharaohs wore pants, but refrained from commenting.

Jesse turned toward the bedrooms. "Matt! Come on! The Rover is leaving in five minutes!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," the boy shouted as he ran into the room. "I momentarily lost my cap." With flourish, Matt tugged said cap over his curly hair and grinned.

"I found Waldo," Cory remarked.

Jesse laughed. Matt hadn't put much into his costume either, it seemed. Blue jeans, a red and white striped shirt and matching hat… it helped that he already had the round wire glasses.

"Very cute, Matt."

He blushed and headed for the door. "Let's just go, all right?"

The roommates had decided to drive Jesse's Range Rover across campus, closer to the library. Walking was a pain in the ass sometimes. They were going sans Jamal, who had begged off in lieu of working yet another shift. Jesse couldn't actually blame the kid – he had a family to support, and Jamal had mentioned that his brother had taken ill recently. Medical bills couldn't be easy to pay off.

The Powell Library was decorated in traditional Halloween style – lit jack-o-lanterns led them up to the doors and inside orange and black colored nearly everything. Looking around, Jesse saw the usual pirates and nurses and maids, as well a few unusual costumes. He turned to Cory, who was scanning the crowd and decidedly ignoring the scantily-clad nurses and maids.

"Where were you supposed to meet the girls?"

"Here by the entrance," he replied. "At least I thought so."

"I found Waldo!" a familiar female voice called out.

Jesse swiveled his head to find the trio of girls who never went anywhere without each other, it seemed. Sharon, who had made the Waldo joke (he was sure to be tired of that one by the end of the night), had a grin on her face and wore a green-and-white cheerleading outfit. It had actual letters on it, making Jesse suspect that it wasn't just a costume for her. Slightly behind the redhead came Tiffany, a perfect complement to Cory's pharaoh. Her floor-length dress was one-shouldered and gold, black stitching patterning the material exactly like her boyfriend's. Her dark hair flowed across her shoulders in waves, and Jesse had to admit that the Egyptian thing worked on her.

"I'm sure Matt's heard that joke plenty of times before, Sharon."

Of their own accord, Jesse's eyes traveled to the girl who was being dragged behind Tiffany by her wrist. He immediately saw Alex's inspiration – Jasmine, Disney princess. The light blue fabric floated about her legs, cinching at the waist and ankles; her feet were clad in golden sandals, and the off-the-shoulder top covered as much as a bikini, with sheer blue cloth falling around her stomach. It was a very enticing view, obviously enforced by the eyes that followed Alex as she was dragged through the crowd.

"My queen," Cory bowed formally when the girls reached them, reaching out and kissing Tiffany's hand. She giggled.

"That doesn't look like a store-bought outfit," Jesse remarked to Sharon. She waved her pom poms in his face.

"Is it so hard to believe that I was a high school cheerleader?" Sharon smirked. "How do you think I got into performance?"

Alex slid up beside him and muttered so that only he could hear, "Westley, The Princess Bride?"

He glanced down at her in surprise, which she could clearly see behind the mask. She chuckled.

"I like it."

"Thanks, Alex. Or should I say Jasmine?"

Alex blushed, although she grinned widely. "It's just general Arabian princess. But if you want to get technical…" she laughed. "I had to modify it, actually. I am not oblivious to the stares I'm getting even wearing this…" she whirled suddenly and sent a death glare toward the cluster of boys gawking in her direction; they scattered like deer. Alex sighed and turned back to Jesse. "Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it, but that doesn't mean we all want to."

"Isn't that a quote from something?" Sharon said. "At least part of it is."

"_Mean Girls_," answered another familiar voice.

"Speaking of sluts…" Alex muttered, too low for anyone to hear.

Sam had taken the classic schoolgirl costume and slutified it big time. Last time Alex checked, it was considered bad taste to wear three inch stilettos, a skirt that was little more than a fringe across the legs, and a tight white oxford shirt tied under your breasts to school. But hey, what did she know?

"Hello, all. Jesse," Sam purred, wrapping her arms around his waist. "How's my handsome ninja?"

Alex snorted and hastily covered it with a cough when Sam shot daggers her way. Jesse smiled, ignoring the ninja comment. Close enough. "I'm good, Sam. Haven't seen you in a few days."

"I've been busy, you know, classes and making RA rounds," she said, returning his smile.

Alex gave a little wave as she left the group, headed for the big bowls of candy on the other side of the room. Jesse watched her go briefly before turning his attention back to Sam, who was rambling on about her life in one breath.

"Would like some punch?" he interrupted her.

She frowned up at him, but smiled after a slight hesitation. "Yeah, Jess, sure. Let's go."

Sam seized his hand and began leading them through the mass of people. It was Jesse's turn to frown. Sam was clingy, no doubt about it. Did she think that she would lose him if she didn't hold on to him every second they were out somewhere? It was odd behavior, but then a few of his exes

_(Rachel)_

had been clingy as well. Maybe it was a girl thing.

They chatted idly over drinks (a can of soda for him, a glass of punch for her) until the music started around ten. Sam dragged Jesse onto the dance floor, though there was more of her pressing up against his body than any true dancing happening between them. Jesse suspected that the punch had been spiked, judging by his almost-girlfriend's clumsy movements; he was glad now that he had chosen the soda instead.

Familiar beats sounded in the room and a cheer rose as people spread out. Jesse allowed himself a grin. He knew the dance, at least. In the confusion, he lost Sam, but figured they would find each other soon enough.

_'Cause this is thriller, thriller night  
And no one's gonna save you from the beast about strike  
You know it's thriller, thriller night  
You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight_

"Having fun?"

Alex had to shout to be heard above the music; Jesse turned his amused gaze on her as they clapped and shimmied through the dance.

"How do you always find me?"

"I look for the black!" she yelled back with a grin.

The song ended with the maniacal laughter that always made Jesse's skin prickle, just a bit, and the crowd whooped and clapped. Alex laughed and moved off the dance floor; Jesse followed her, taking off his headgear and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"You seem to have lost your date," Alex said over her shoulder as she headed for a window, which was open and letting in the October breeze. She breathed a sigh as the fresh air hit her face.

"Yeah, she disappeared before _Thriller_ started. Probably in the bathroom," he replied, glancing around the room.

"She runs off and you automatically assume 'bathroom?'"

"Isn't that where you girls go when you vanish from sight?"

Alex rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Men."

"Besides, she had something to drink earlier tonight, and it had alcohol in it," Jesse said with a frown. "Maybe she got sick."

"What'd she have to drink?" Alex asked carefully. She wondered if the jock was here.

Jesse shrugged. "I dunno. It was spiked punch."

Alex winced. "That's why you only drink from unopened soda cans." She glanced over at him, still scanning the crowd. "Care to take a walk?"

"I suppose…" he looked out at the hoard once more before following Alex to the door and out into the study court. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked to one of the tables and noticed a dark outline through the sheer fabric of her costume, and it nudged a memory…

"Do you have a tattoo?" he blurted out.

Alex laughed as she perched herself on one of the tabletops. "Yes, hotshot, I do have a tattoo." She twisted her body and lifted the hem of the shirt she wore; inked onto her skin was an 'm' with a figure 8 on the last leg, flanked on either side by a pair of wings. The tattoo wrapped around her hip, though it wasn't very large.

"What's it mean?"

She chuckled again, dropping the material. "It's the Virgo zodiac sign."

"What is that – August to September?"

"Yeah. August 29th for me."

Jesse nodded. "So what're you now – nineteen?"

"Eighteen," she corrected.

"You're kinda young."

"If you say so." Alex paused. "My sister was a Virgo too."

Jesse noticed the phrasing of the statement and hesitated. "Was?"

"Was," Alex said quietly. "She was in an accident last year."

"I'm sorry, Alex."

"So am I."

Jesse took a seat beside her and stared at his hands as they sat in silence. The music and laughter from the party drifted out and Alex sighed.

"I guess we should head back to the party."

He glanced over; she didn't look particularly happy about the idea, but she was already standing and walking back toward the library.

"Yeah…" he said slowly, catching up to her easily. "I should probably find Sam. She's probably looking for me anyway; we've been gone for a while."

Alex nodded wordlessly, feet padding softly on the cement. Suddenly she swore under her breath and grabbed Jesse's wrist.

"Let's go in through one of the side doors. Near the drinks," she said hurriedly, tugging on his arm insistently.

"Alex," Jesse frowned. "The front door is right there. Come on, this way is closer."

She pulled at him. "Don't be so lazy."

"Alex, seriously, what're you…." Then he saw them.

Alex saw that he saw them and swore again. "Jesse, come on, let's go."

It was like watching a car wreck in slow motion. Leaning up against the side of the library wall was Sam, blonde hair stark against the dark stonework. That wasn't the interesting part. Alex recognized the football player from last weekend's party (suspicions confirmed, as he was indeed wearing a UCLA football uniform with the name 'JACOBS' printed across the shoulder blades) as he pressed Sam up against the wall, hands running up and down her flat exposed stomach. It was obvious that Sam was kissing him back, tightly clutching his shoulders as he nibbled her lips.

Alex snarled under her breath. She hadn't told Jesse about the incident at the party, not knowing exactly how to bring up the subject tactfully. Besides, though she had his well-being in mind, his personal life was really his own and she didn't have any right to intrude. But the look on Jesse's face made her want to tackle the bitch and punch her pretty little face until –

She took a deep breath.

"Let's get out of here, okay?"

Jesse looked down at her, his face still shell-shocked. What the hell? Okay, so maybe he wasn't officially dating Sam, but… seriously, what the hell? It stunned him more than a little to see Sam with her tongue halfway down some other guy's throat. It hurt. A lot.

"Jesse."

Alex had to repeat his name twice more before he finally responded. She smiled tightly at him. "Let's get out of here?"

He nodded slowly.

"Come on. Back to the dorm it is."

Jesse fished his keys out of his hidden pocket and held them out. "You drive."

She glanced over at him questioningly.

"I don't feel like it."

Alex shrugged and snatched the keys from his hand. "Fair enough."

* * *

_Thriller_, Michael Jackson

A/N: Whoops. Well, that certainly didn't go well...

Thanks to reviewers egyouppt, lacesandbows20, jesse lover, and ChronoNomad. You other 211 readers… seriously. I know you're out there. Please, please, please let me know what you think! Anything is appreciated.

Please REVIEW!


	11. Heart to Heart

Alex drove the Range Rover back to Saxon Suites G in silence, for which Jesse was grateful. It was difficult to process the scene that burned in his mind: Sam equally pressed between the wall of the library and the body of some football player, wantonly running her hands through his hair. It fit, in a sick, twisted sort of way. The schoolgirl and the football player. That's the way the world worked. He had learned that once before, hadn't he? They always went for the football players… and Jesse would put money on the quarterback. _Damn quarterbacks_, he thought darkly. He scowled at his reflection in the window.

More than once, Alex glanced over at him with concern on her face. She didn't try to start up a conversation – he would talk when he was ready, if he wanted to talk at all. She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want to discuss what had just happened, even if she knew that it would be better for him. Deftly maneuvering across campus and avoiding the half-drunk students swaying through the streets, Alex parked the car near the Saxon community and sat wordlessly in the dark to let Jesse collect himself for a few moments longer.

Neither seemed willing to break the silence as they walked up to the second floor, steps loudly echoing in the stairwell. Everyone was out celebrating, it seemed, for the entire dorm was deserted and quiet. Jesse unlocked the door and flipped on the light as he went in; Alex trailed after him, closing the door with a slight _snick_. Jesse glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

Alex raised her eyebrow and threw herself into the armchair. "I'm making sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," he muttered. Lie number one. Jesse toed off the black boots and kicked them into the wall with force. He'd be lucky if they didn't leave dents. Alex grimaced.

"Yeah, I can see just how 'fine' you are."

Jesse whirled and narrowed his eyes. "Has anyone ever told you how annoyingly persistent you are?"

She nodded. "Frequently."

"Leave me alone, Alex."

"No."

He scowled and sank down onto the couch opposite the girl. They studied each other, Alex calmly and mostly expressionless, Jesse less calmly and looking suspicious. "Tell me why you care."

"In general," Alex asked, "or in this instance specifically?"

"Take your pick," he grumbled.

She sighed softly. "You're hurting. I've seen what happens when you spiral down. I figure this time I'll just hang around in case you need me."

"I don't _need_ anyone." Lie number two.

Alex shrugged. "Suit yourself." She curled up in the chair and grabbed the book that Matt was currently reading for one of his Gen Eds, flipping it open.

Jesse stared at her incredulously. "You're really just going to sit there and read?"

"I'll sit here all night if I have to." She raised her eyes to meet his. "Unless you'd like to talk about it."

"Talk about it."

"How you're feeling. What you saw. Why it hurts you so much."

Jesse snorted. "I'm not hurt, Alex. Pissed, maybe, but not hurt." Lie number three. _Keep it up, St. James, you're on a roll._

The corner of her mouth tilted sardonically. "Hotshot, maybe it's just me, but you are _such_ a horrible liar." When he didn't reply, she went back to the book, humming slightly under her breath.

His scowl deepened. Maybe it _was_ just her, because he planned to make his living pretending to be someone else on stage, and he could lie really well when he had to. Just ask anyone in Lima, Ohio. Why was it that Alex could see through anything he threw out? Other than the overly defensive tone that he generally adopted whenever she asked after him, that is. Maybe it was the fact that she was truly the only person who knew that there was more to his story than he let on – ever. That bit of truth sliced both ways, though. He was certain that more had happened in her life than just losing her potential future, like that hadn't been enough to begin with. They weren't close enough yet for full disclose of deep dark secrets. On the other hand, he hadn't ever been this close with anyone, and it was as disconcerting as it was a relief.

"I don't take rejection well," he blurted out.

"Oh really?" Alex's lips hinted at a smile, which she hid behind the cover of the book. "I wouldn't have guessed that." She glanced up and saw his frown. "Okay, okay, no joking." She set aside the book and gave him her full attention. "I am aware of that fact, yes."

Jesse stared back into the duality of her eyes and swallowed. She looked back expectantly.

"Aren't you supposed to say something about how that makes me feel?" Jesse said mockingly. He didn't know where to take it from there.

Alex laughed outright, eyes sparkling like someone had flipped a switch. "This isn't a therapy session, hotshot, unless you want to pay me – which I wouldn't object to." Her smile was mischievous.

"Well what am I supposed to say beyond that?"

She shrugged. "You started talking first. You can say whatever you want." Alex sobered. "Jesse, I'm here for you. And whatever you say will never pass my lips again. I swear it."

And the funny thing was, when he gazed into her face, he believed her.

"What are your parents like?" he said quickly.

If Alex was thrown by the abrupt change of topic, she didn't let it show.

"They're normal, for the most part, except for the fact that they basically ignored me until I started dancing." A bitter smile crossed her face. "Why do you think I decided to go to New York for high school, and then attend college all the way across the country? Once I couldn't dance anymore, they cut me out again. It was almost worse this time, because of other circumstances," she met his eyes steadily, "that will not be included in this discussion."

That. Right there. More to the story. Not important for the moment, however, so he'd let it go. One day, though…he'd find out.

Jesse nodded. "My parents were pretty much the same way, except in addition to ignoring me they always dumped me off on someone else. My father started up a very successful business before I was born and then sold it when I was about twelve, thereby making the St. James family rich by the standards of today's society. So from then on he and my mother took trips all over the world. Dubai is his favorite, so he tells me when I'm worth speaking to. They didn't much concern themselves with the college process. They'll probably return from Greece or Japan or wherever and wonder where I am for about two minutes before remembering that yes, I am halfway across the country.

"Discovering my aptitude for performance was all that kept me going through high school. I think," he said slowly, "that I act the way I do because my life just works better if I don't care. At Carmel, I was _Jesse St. James_. More popular than the football players; I would walk through the halls and girls would sigh behind me. I could have anything – anyone – I wanted. I guess it was a shock to come to UCLA, even though the girls still want me," Jesse said with a smirk.

Alex rolled her eyes, but did chuckle lightly. "It's not hard to figure out, really."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You're charismatic," Alex counted off on her fingers, "you exude that aura of 'don't give a damn' that is misinterpreted as confidence, and places you squarely in the bad boy category. All girls love a bad boy," she explained with a shrug. "I think it's genetically programmed into our DNA. And, you aren't the worst-looking male on campus," she finished with a teasing smirk.

Jesse relaxed against the arm of the couch. "You seem to have a lower opinion of me than 'all girls,'" he pointed out.

"I told you the first day, hotshot, I know guys like you," she replied. "I went to an über-competitive arts school. I grew up with the cocky, the handsome, the arrogant. So forgive me if I treat you like a normal teenage boy for once in your life," Alex grinned.

He sighed. "I don't mind, really."

"You're kidding me."

He chuckled at the skepticism on her face. "You ground me, Alex. I guess I need that, especially since I'm not number one anymore."

Alex nodded. "I'm sorry about Sam."

The frown returned to Jesse's face, but it was softer than before, more like he was trying to solve a math problem versus being pissed at the almost-girlfriend.

"We weren't even going out. It's not actually her it has to do with, really."

Alex tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Rachel."

He watched the understanding paint her features. "She was the one you went out with last year, right? You wanted to screw over her glee club for Regionals."

Jesse winced. She didn't mince words. "Yes, that's Rachel."

"So," Alex propped her head up on a closed fist, "what do Sam and Rachel have in common?"

"Aside from their irritating dating habits?"

She raised her eyebrow. "Care to elucidate on that?"

Jesse grumbled and stared at the wall.

"Speak up, hotshot."

"Football players," he bit out. "They both seem to have an obsession with football players. And going back to their exes. Who happen to play football."

Alex giggled. "I wouldn't take you for the jealous type."

Jesse shook his head. "It goes back to Carmel. I was the best high school performer in the nation. Then Rachel and Finn… now Sam and what's-his-face…"

"So it isn't really about the girls, or the relationships." Alex tugged on a strand of hair, watching him. "It's a power play for you."

"Yeah, that sums it up pretty nicely," he said with a sarcastic bite.

"Oh, Jesse," Alex sighed, "you really need to grow up a little."

"Excuse me?"

She shrugged and met his heated gaze. "Do you know what would happen if you treated me the way you treated Rachel?"

Jesse chuckled nervously. "Quite honestly, I don't even want to think about it."

Alex answered with a chuckle of her own. "Exactly. Do you think I would date someone else, even if you and I had the occasional fling?"

His eyebrows shot straight up. "What specifically did this fling entail?"

"Hmhmhm," Alex rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Apply the situation between you and Sam to this hypothetical scenario. You've told us that you didn't actually sleep together, so we'll use that. I say again, if we'd just had an occasional fling, do you think I would date someone else?"

"Without a doubt," Jesse replied honestly.

"If you had asked Sam out, officially, do you think she might've been with you tonight and not that other guy?"

He frowned. "Maybe."

"There you go."

"What?" Jesse blinked.

Alex casually pointed her finger at him. "You see girls as a conquest, Jesse. Dating, relationships, it's nothing more than a game to you. Take Rachel, for example. You didn't even date her for the person she is – you did it to screw with her head, increase your odds of victory."

"That isn't true," he interjected softly.

"Which part?" Alex tilted her head.

"I started to like her, after dating her for a few weeks. There was more to her than her voice, you know?" He hesitated briefly. "But I couldn't just leave Vocal Adrenaline, even for her. It was my senior year, and we were heading for Nationals – again. You can understand that kind of ambition, can't you?" His eyes pleaded with her to understand.

"Have I told you before that I've never climbed over anyone to reach the top?" Alex asked. Jesse shook his head mutely. "Well, I'm telling you now. The ambition I get, the methods of reaching that ambition I don't understand. I'm just not that type of person," she shrugged, shifting in the chair so that her legs hung over one side.

"Now you're just making me sound like an awful person," Jesse sulked. "You know that isn't all that I am."

"It's a very big part of who you are, though."

Jesse sighed. "Your honesty is borderline brutal, you know."

"Yes, I do know. I bet you're contemplating slapping me too, huh?"

"I take it you've heard that before as well."

"Too many times to count," she grinned, not looking at all sorry. "I'm only trying to help, hotshot."

"I know, Alex. And I do appreciate it," he responded honestly.

Alex nodded. "Good. Now, there's something very important that I'd like to discuss with you…" she adopted a mischievous smirk and watched him across the room.

"Yes…?" Jesse was wary of that look.

Her grin widened. "Would you like me to hunt a certain someone down and kick her ass?"

Jesse stared at Alex in silence for about five seconds before he burst out laughing. She watched him with obvious amusement, one eyebrow raised at his outburst.

"No," he choked out between fits of laughter, "I don't really… think that'll be necessary."

"Suit yourself," Alex shrugged, but her face was clearly lit with merriment. She cocked her head slightly. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh, hotshot."

"You've heard me laugh."

"Uh, no. You chuckle – you don't actually laugh like you just did."

"What can I say? You're freaking hilarious."

Alex giggled and inclined her head. "Thanks. I'll ignore the sarcasm," she stuck her tongue out at him on a childlike whim and quickly reverted back to a grin. "The others will figure out that we've left soon. How about a movie until then? I can walk back with the girls when they get back."

"Sure," Jesse agreed. "Although I'm not sure if Tiffany would go back with you… I got the feeling she wanted to spend the night."

She quirked her eyebrow. "Doesn't that bother Matt?"

"I think it used to make him a little uncomfortable, to be honest, but he and Cory talked it out. They just sleep together, all cuddled up." He made a face that made Alex smirk. "I don't know how they can stand it. Those beds are small enough with one person, never mind two."

Alex laughed. "You'll understand some day."

"Don't act like you're _so_ much older than me, Alex."

She held up her hands and chuckled softly. "Movie?"

An hour and a half later, Cory swept the door open, closely followed by Tiffany (of course), Sharon, Matt, and Jamal. The little group stopped just inside, staring at the scene in the living room. The television was on mute, explosions lighting up the screen periodically. Jesse had turned his head toward them and had a single finger pressed against his lips; he nodded to the figure curled up at the other end of the couch, breathing evenly. Jesse had thrown a blanket over Alex, and when he looked at her he thought she looked younger whilst asleep – more vulnerable.

Jesse eased up off the couch and met his friends by the door. "She's asleep," he said softly, glancing back.

"We figured," Cory whispered, entwining his fingers with Tiffany's. "Where'd you two go?"

"There was an… incident with Sam," Jesse explained, keeping his voice low. "Alex was with me and she saw how freaked out I was, so we came back here."

"And?"

"And we talked," he answered Sharon with slightly narrowed eyes. "She didn't want me getting into trouble again, I guess."

"Aw, that's so cute," Tiffany gushed softly.

"What's happening with you and Sam, then?" Matt asked.

Jesse shook his head. "Nothing. I anticipate that conversation taking place very soon, and I doubt it'll go well for her or me." He sighed and glanced over at Cory and Tiffany. "Staying the night, are you?"

Tiffany blushed deeply and nodded, biting her lip sheepishly but casting flirtatious eyes toward her boyfriend, who squeezed her hand affectionately.

Jesse shifted his attention to Matt. "You can sleep in my bed tonight, if you'd like."

Matt's eyes widened. "Where will you be?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sharon interjected with a sly grin. "Can't leave Alex out here in the living room all by herself, now, can we?"

As one, they all glanced over to the sleeping girl, who slept on, completely oblivious to their conversation. Jesse grinned. He liked her better asleep – she didn't talk as much.

Half an hour later, Cory and Tiffany were settled in behind the closed bedroom door, but Jesse wasn't particularly worried; he could hear their murmured voices. Matt had moved to Jesse's bed (new sheets in place) and was already asleep, and Jamal was emerging from the bathroom with hair dripping down his shoulders. Sharon had left for the girls' dorm shortly before, grinning about having the whole room to herself.

Jesse flicked off the lights and slithered into the sleeping bag that Jamal had allowed him to borrow, staring up at Alex on the couch. A sliver of moonlight slanted through the blinds and landed across her shoulders, casting enough of a glow for Jesse to see the slight smile that touched her face. He allowed himself an echoing grin.

"Good night, Alex," he whispered and closed his eyes.

They slept on.

* * *

A/N: Hey, all! First of all, my most profuse and sincerest apologies for not being able to update sooner. If any of you are or know any Biology majors, you understand the workload that comes with the territory, especially near midterms. Hopefully I'll have more time to write now…

Thank you to ChronoNomad, egyouppt, Elsiebelse, jesse lover, and Cory Anne Stickel for reviewing the last chapter!

Speaking of reviewing… see the pretty blue words down there, begging to be clicked? Please review, it fuels the muse!


	12. Karaoke Night

As it turned out, Jesse and Sam never got to have their conversation the next day.

Or the next.

Or the next.

By Thursday, the entire second floor was whispering in the hallways, exchanging stories and, more often than not, rumors that only seemed to expound and swell to overwhelmingly unbelievable proportions.

"She was hit by a car after that Halloween party."

"…in the hospital."

"…in jail!"

"Expelled!"

When he heard these mutters, Jesse would just shake his head and continue on his way. Bunch of gossips, the lot of them. He wouldn't trust anything he heard until he knew that the information was factual. He knew that Alex liked to throw in her theories when she was over, most of her tales ending with Sam eaten by a dragon. Why she wasn't a creative writing major, he couldn't figure out. But she added a shade of amusement to the situation that the inhabitants of 217 found refreshing.

It wasn't until Friday afternoon that factual answers finally came, in the form of a slender upperclassman filling their doorframe. His brownish-blonde hair was swept casually back from his face, like he spent a lot of time running his fingers through it. His pale green eyes held barely contained enthusiasm, and his mouth quirked into a half smile. He dressed impeccably, in loose dark jeans and a red long-sleeved button-up polo.

"Hey," the upperclassman greeted Cory casually. "Mind if I step in for a moment?"

"Uh, sure?" Cory stepped back, allowing him entrance into the dorm. The other three looked up at the newcomer from their various positions in the room. He gave a little wave.

"Hi guys, I'm Anthony," he said with a flippant smile. "I'm going to be your new RA for the rest of the year."

Jesse's eyebrows shot up, and his weren't the only ones. Perhaps there was more truth to some of the more exaggerated speculations of Sam's sudden absence than he thought.

Cory, of course, was the first to regain his composure (aside from Jamal, who never really lost his composure – ever – but he wasn't the talkative sort) and immediately launched into introductions.

"Hey, I'm Cory, and that's Jesse, Matt, and Jamal," he pointed to each of them in turn, and they sent some form of acknowledgement back. "We're all freshmen."

Anthony nodded. "It's very nice to meet you all. I just wanted to introduce myself, and let you know that tomorrow night I'm having a karaoke competition down in the lounge. Just a friendly get together, really, for me to get better acquainted with everyone." He threw out that easygoing smile again; Jesse could see how he got the RA position – an all-around friendly guy, how often does that happen? And Jesse spoke from experience.

"Sounds good," Cory said, returning the grin. "It'll be hard to top Jess, though. He's got a great voice."

"Oh yeah?" Anthony turned his attention to Jesse.

Jesse shrugged. "Musical theatre major. I was in Vocal Adrenaline through high school – "

"Oh hey, four national titles, right?"

He looked to Anthony is surprise. "Yeah. You keep up with high school glee clubs?"

The older man smiled. "My glee club placed third at Nationals my senior year. You would've been a sophomore, I believe. I watched Vocal Adrenaline compete. You were a great group – maybe a little too focused on the dramatic flair instead of vocal talent, but you won, so I guess it worked." He gave a little chuckle that took the insult out of his words.

"Thanks," Jesse nodded. "So what are you studying now?"

"Musical theatre, same as you," Anthony replied, eyes dancing. "I'm also involved in FAST – Fashion and Student Trends. Unfortunately, UCLA doesn't have a fashion major, or I'd be double majoring."

Jesse looked surprised. "Musical theatre? You didn't happen to audition for the musical a few weeks back, did you?"

"Mhm. Didn't get a callback or anything. It happens. Some days are better than others," he shrugged.

"Oh."

"Well," Anthony addressed the room again, oblivious to Jesse's introspection, "that's all I have to say. Hope to see you guys down in the lounge tomorrow night." He gave a little wave and left their doorway, headed down the hall.

"Jess," Cory nudged his friend lightly. "Sam?"

"Oh!" Jesse snapped from his reverie and bolted through the door. "Anthony!" he called as he ran up the hall. Anthony turned his head and grinned at him.

"Jesse, hey. What can I do for you?"

Jesse skidded to a halt and looked up; Anthony had a few measurable inches on him. "I'd like to know what happened to Sam. The previous RA."

The smile had turned into a slight frown. "I know who Sam is. I just don't know that giving out that information is pertinent to you."

"We were sort of dating," Jesse offered as an explanation. It was a stretch, really, but he wanted facts, not the speculations of bored college students.

"But she hasn't called you?"

"It was rocky near the end."

Anthony hesitated for a long second and sighed. "Sam got her second MIP charge over the weekend. The laws aren't incredibly overwhelming – fines to pay and such. But her parents told her after the _first_ MIP that if she pulled another stupid stunt that they would take her out of UCLA and put her in a community college. Apparently, her parents don't bluff." He gave Jesse a humorless smile. "She would have had her RA privileges revoked anyway, but the decision was taken out of the University's figurative hands. Sorry, Jesse."

Jesse sighed deeply. "Well, I figured something had happened after this weekend." He shook his head abruptly and shrugged. "Okay. Thanks, Anthony. It's good to know the truth."

"No problem. See you at karaoke?"

"Yeah, sure."

He trudged back to the dorm, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Sam was gone.

Well that sucked.

He let himself back in the dorm room to find his roommates whispering conspiratorially. They shut up briefly, then Matt, surprisingly, blurted out his thoughts.

"Where's Sam?"

Jesse shrugged. "Her parents pulled her out. They're sending her off to a CC, I guess."

"Just because?"

"She got another MIP after the party this weekend."

"Ah," Cory nodded, "that'd do it."

"Yeah," Jesse sighed. He straightened. "Still, not like I'm missing out on a lot, huh? Football player has it worse than I do."

"Way to look on the bright side," Matt chuckled.

"Indeed," said Cory with a slight smile. "Now, let's move on to a _much_ more interesting subject…"

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"Anthony!" Matt interjected with a shy grin.

"What about him?"

"Oh, c'mon, Jess," Cory scoffed. "You're a musical theatre major. You know the signs."

Jesse rolled his eyes now. "Yes, because there's a set list of exact qualifications."

"Just one, really," Matt giggled.

"I thought California was supposed to be less conservative," Jesse smirked. "Why is it so shocking to you all that Anthony likes his own team?"

Cory shrugged. "Just 'cause we're from Cali doesn't mean we actually _know_ any gays."

Jesse laughed. "At least he's subtle about it. One day I'll have to bring out this kid I know from Ohio…"

* * *

"Who invited you?"

Alex spun around to face Jesse and laughed. "C'mon, hotshot, it's an open event. And for the record, Tiffany invited me."

"And guess who invited me!" the girl in question giggled, suddenly appearing from nowhere.

"Couldn't fathom," Jesse replied, shooting a glare over her shoulder at Cory, who had the decency to adopt a guilty little smile.

"Let's get this thing started!" Anthony called out over the crowd. He stood up on what passed for a makeshift stage, next to the karaoke machine and some speakers. "C'mon, everyone, take a seat."

About two dozen college students found spots in the lounge – some in chairs, a few cross-legged on the tables, most on the floor. Jesse went to the floor by Cory and Tiffany, already wrapped around each other like they were a single entity. Alex gracefully sat herself next to Jesse, ignoring the narrowing of his eyes and smirking slightly. He shook his head; it was just an Alex thing to do.

"Hi guys," Anthony spoke from the stage, quieting the group down effortlessly. "For those of you who I didn't get to, I'm Anthony and I'll be the RA for the rest of the year." He threw out an easygoing smile that made a mini-clique of girls sigh. Jesse snorted. "This is my little shindig, so we'll jump right in. Rules: individual or group singing is allowed. You get one song. At the end of the round, everyone will vote – one vote per person and you aren't allowed to vote for yourself." Anthony grinned. "Makes it interesting, don't you think?

"Now, are there any questions?" He paused and looked around. "No? Awesome. Let's get to it, then. Who wants to go first?"

The clique of giggling girls immediately raised their hands – _definitely freshmen_, Jesse thought with much rolling of eyes. Anthony smiled like the good guy he was and left the stage, allowing the girls to scramble up and grab for the mikes.

As some pop-like song started from the speakers, Alex leaned over.

"What happened to Sam?" she whispered conspiratorially and with a wide grin.

"Does it really matter?"

Alex looked thoughtful. "No, I guess not, but until my curiosity is satisfied I will continue to hound you until you give it up, so…"

"She left."

"Just like that?"

"Okay, well, her parents took her out, but yes, that's the general idea."

"It was the partying, right?"

"Pretty much."

Alex nodded knowledgably. "It was probably for her own good. Closer to home, her parents can keep better tabs on the girl. Keep her out of trouble." Her voice had taken on a wistful quality, and Jesse shot her a raised eyebrow.

"You sound like you know what you're talking about."

"Maybe I do." Her tone booked no argument this time, so Jesse simply turned his attention back to Blondie One, Blondie Two, and Brunette Friend. They had no appreciation for pitch or rhythm, and he winced as they warbled out the last few notes of their song. He joined in the half-hearted clapping out of societal necessity, but on the inside he was cringing. A glance to his left revealed that Alex didn't feel the need to be subtle; her cringe was real and on her face. He chuckled.

"Thank you ladies," Anthony nodded and they tittered back. "Who'd like to top that?"

"Allow me," Alex called as she stood. "Shouldn't be difficult," she muttered to Jesse as she headed toward the stage; he covered his laugh with a faked cough, but couldn't keep the grin from his face.

Guitar flowed from the speakers and Alex grinned out at the crowd as she raised the microphone to her mouth.

_Right right, turn off the lights,  
We're gonna lose our minds tonight  
What's the dealeo?_

On his right, Tiffany burst out laughing. An appreciative murmur ran though the group – not only was the song perfect for Alex, but she was killing it, accompanying the lyrics with gestures and dancing.

_Who knew?_ Jesse thought with a smirk.

_So raise your glass if you are wrong,  
In all the right ways,  
All my underdogs,  
We will never be never be anything but loud  
And nitty gritty dirty little freaks  
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,  
Just come on and come on and raise your glass_

Alex continued through the song with gusto, punching the air and jumping around the stage like a rock star. She wasn't bad, Jesse admitted to himself grudgingly. Oh, some of the notes were off, but she had a voice, for sure. And she was way better than the giggling gaggling trio. The fervent applause started before she even got the last note out, and after that a few shouts of encouragement filled the air.

Alex grinned as she hopped off the stage, making sure to catch Jesse's eye. On her way back, Jesse swore he saw her get a number from some random guy in the second guy, and she took it with a laugh.

"How was that?" she smirked when she plopped back into her place on the floor.

Jesse shrugged. "Not bad," he replied with a smirk of his own.

She nudged him with her elbow. "I'm sure."

They watched disinterestedly as a blue-eyed, blond-haired boy took the stage and sang out a ballad clearly meant for the equally blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl in the front row. Alex rolled her eyes and leaned back on her hands, shoving her shoulder against his.

"You next?"

"No!" Tiffany leaned over Jesse, speaking in a whisper. "Cory and I are going next!"

"We are?" Cory looked slightly alarmed as he gazed at his girlfriend with wide eyes.

Tiffany chuckled and whispered in his ear; Cory relaxed, his mouth curling into a tender smile. The Brit giggled. "See? You won't even have to sing that much."

Cory sighed with exaggeration. "Well, if you insist."

"And I do," Tiffany grinned.

"You've been hanging out with Alex too much," Jesse shook his head, amused.

"No such thing," Alex smirked as Cory helped Tiffany to her feet, leading her to the stage by a hand. "They look so cute together, don't you think?"

"The boy's whipped."

Alex laughed. "Just you wait, Jesse St. James. You'll get there one day, God willing."

Up at the microphone, Tiffany was tugging at the cord and smoothing down her hair, nervously smiling out at the group. Cory reached over and took her hand, grinning down at her reassuringly as the first few guitar notes plucked their way through the speakers. Tiffany lifted the mic to her face and began to sing, her accent warbling through the air.

_You were in college working part time waiting tables  
Left a small town never looked back_

Alex sighed and leaned back on her hands again, looking up at her friends with an expression of bliss on her face. Jesse surreptitiously watched her watching them, and frowned slightly. She never talked about ex boyfriends, he'd never seen her with another guy, and she never expressed an interest in dating. Was that something else that tied into the past she wouldn't talk about?

Cory's voice chimed in, singing a chorus slightly off-key. The look in his eyes as he gazed at Tiffany, however, completely rendered that fact irrelevant.

_I remember how we felt sittin' by the water  
And every time I look at you it's like the first time  
I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter  
She is the best thing that's ever been mine_

The applause was loud as they hopped from the stage; Tiffany blushed fiercely but grinned and waved as they headed back to their place on the floor. Jesse almost swore he saw the giggling gaggling trio in the front wiping tears from their eyes and gushing to each other, but that definitely had to be a trick of the lights.

"Okay," Tiffany said with flourish as she plopped down next to Jesse, "now you can go." She grinned devilishly, catching Alex's eye over his shoulder. He turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow. Alex shrugged.

"Better sooner than later."

Jesse shook his head, but stood and leaned against the wall while he waited for the current participant to finish her soft ballad. As soon as the last note went past her lips, Jesse strolled to the front of the room and took the microphone from her hand.

"Our very own Jesse St. James, ladies and gents!" Anthony called over the din.

Jesse gave him a nod and a smile before selecting his song. Waiting for the music to start, he stared out over the crowd and scanned the faces. The girls were watching him closely, already leaning forward in anticipation. Jesse smirked and caught a few of their eyes, stirring up giggles. This was where he belonged – up on a stage, up before an audience, using his voice to tell his story. His eyes came to the back of the room and he relaxed as he met Alex's gaze. She threw a smirk his way as the first hints of music reached his ears.

_A little early in Spring  
A bonfire ring, she's shivering alone  
I bumped into you somehow_

He watched Alex's grin widen as she took in the lyrics. This had actually been one of her suggestions for his audition, but eventually they had agreed that it didn't showcase his musical talents as well. But now, his voice sounded great even to his own ears – although, admittedly, he was biased toward himself. What artist wasn't?

_If nothing else I am myself  
It's all I have to give  
Everything's changing now_

By the time the song reached its end, the sheer happiness on Alex's face was so brilliant that it almost hurt to look at. Cheers erupted around the room, and more than a few girls smiled flirtatiously as he passed on the way back; he wasn't much interested, though, especially because the flirting was outrageous and not at all subtle, the way interest should be played. When he sat down, Alex wasted no time turning to him, studying his face with unusual intensity.

"What?" Jesse raised an eyebrow.

"You really are amazing," she murmured. "You know that?"

Jesse shrugged. "Of course."

The strange look disappeared from Alex's face and she laughed. "Smooth, hotshot. Very clever," she gave him a friendly punch as she turned her attention back to the competition.

It wasn't a real surprise when Jesse won the king-size chocolate bar for a first place finish, but Alex appeared decidedly more shocked when she was voted into the silver medal spot, accepting her candy with a slightly glazed expression. And later that night, when Jesse was staring up at the ceiling in his bed, he wasn't thinking about the chocolate or winning.

He was thinking about the rare smiles he got from Alex and why, oh why, he felt like he'd do just about anything to see that look on her face more often.

* * *

_Raise Your Glass_, Pink  
_Mine_, Taylor Swift  
_Bonfire_, Third Eye Blind

A/N: Hello, readers who are not upset enough to continue with this story! Yes, I realize it's been FOREVER since I've updated. I blame four things: college, work, dance, and a bit of writer's block. But no worries – this was more of a filler chapter, and things get interesting from here… who's ready to meet Alex's family?

Thanks go out to Elsiebelse, egyouppt, jesse lover, ChronoNomad, and vicky for reviewing my last chapter, however long ago that may have been!

Speaking of reviews… please do so! Many thanks!


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